


Give 'Em Hope

by L1av



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Bearded Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky, Bucky is a virgin, Bucky will be turning 17 during this fic, Come Swallowing, Come play, Coming Out, Depression, Dirty Talk, Doctor!Steve, Doctor/Patient, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Exploring Sexuality, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hand Jobs, Hospital Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Major Illness, Mentions of homophobia, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Peter Parker is a sneaky matchmaker, Porn With Plot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Top Steve Rogers, cam sex, experienced Steve, extremely light dom/sub undertones, immunal deficiency diseases, inexperienced Bucky, nsfw images in chapter 3 notes, patient!Bucky, psychological illness: Borderline Personality Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 130,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L1av/pseuds/L1av
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. </p><p>He needs him to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pericardial Effusion

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the tags, Bucky has a disease (called immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM). If a character having a potentially life-threatening disease bothers you, please do NOT read this story. Heed the tags! 
> 
> I got a little encouragement from a fellow Stucky friend (she knows who she is haha) and this is the product of that! :) I'm also using this as an excuse to try to write dialogue with more vernacular emphasis. We'll see how that works... XD
> 
> I make no claims to be a medical expert, most of my knowledge is restricted to the year I worked for a pain clinic, my doctor of a mother, and hospital drama shows. I've done my absolute best to research all diseases mentioned as well as procedures, tests and any medical jargon. If I'm blatantly wrong about something, I'm perfectly fine with you telling me what it is (just be nice about it haha). :) Thank you for taking the time to read, I hope you enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this amazing photoset that [IdRatherHaveYouMetalArmOrNot](http://idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot.tumblr.com/) made for me!  
> [CLICK ME!!](http://l1av.tumblr.com/post/120212779333/idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot-get-to-know-me/)

Dr. Steve Rogers hadn’t even taken several steps into the hospital before nearly being knocked over by an ER gurney as nurses rushed a patient in from the ER entrance. He walked down the cream tiled floors, hearing the whispers from nurses and doctors; their hushed, urgent tones sounded like a rushing river. He looked to one of the waiting rooms, seeing people praying, speaking softly; watching TV idly like nothing else mattered. They were like statutes, yet each one so detailed with a passionate story behind it. Steve could talk to the families of his patients for hours. It was the best way he’d get information sometimes, especially since his patients weren’t always the easiest to get information out of.

Steve liked to call the hospital the “beehive.”  He, like his many colleagues were always running around, frantic about blood work, new patients, reoccurring patients, emergencies, infectious diseases, emergency surgeries… The list went on and on. He was never bored at work, though sometimes he’d give anything to feel bored. He’d love to walk into work one day and not have to worry about one of his patients getting worse…or dying.

He’d just finished his residency and was offered a fellowship to stay on at the Brookdale University Hospital in Brooklyn. It was quite an accomplishment for him, since the hospital was held in such high esteem. It was an honor and a privilege and Steve took it very seriously. He specialized in pediatrics, finding his passion as a second year intern for children. Originally he’d wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon, but the children had stolen his heart, and he’d found he was quite good with them. He’d grown up a sick kid and he felt he could relate better to the children than the adults. He had more stories to share with them. The only downside was watching a child waste away to nothing, or that life-altering moment when he had to tell a family their child was dying. He hated those days. He could remember each and every face that he’d ever had to deliver such news to. He saw the color drain, their eyes dull… It was the worst part of the job.

However, today was not one of those. He had a few consulting appointments up in infectious diseases and would be observing one neonatal surgery around noon. “Dr. Rogers!” a woman called out. She had blonde, curly hair and sported pink scrubs. Her name tag had a sticker of Curious George on it.

“I told you to call me Steve, Sharon…” Steve responded, picking up one of the files from the nurses’ station and scratching at his neatly-kept beard. He looked at a few of the blood test results of one of his patients. If things went according to plan, this kid was looking to get out of here soon and just be placed on a medication regimen.

“Right, sorry,” she said. “It’s an old habit.”

“Your charge nurse give you the whole spiel about interns getting pissed when you called them anything but doctor?” he responded, allowing a warm smile to play at his lips.

Sharon laughed, nodding. “Actually, yeah…interns can be pretty ruthless. Especially the surgeons.”

“Don’t worry, we all soften up by residency. Well,” Steve shrugged. “Most of us.”

Sharon nodded, laughing softly. “Oh! The reason I ran over here flipping out. Dr. Connors is in surgery. One of his patients could really use a consult.”

Steve nodded;  his brow furrowing as he looked at her intently. “Diagnosis?”

“Immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM. James Barnes. Peter Parker’s friend? I think you’ve seen him a few times? He’s sixteen. We’re pretty sure he’s got a pericardial effusion and an infection, but we need a doctor to formally let the labs know what the nurses have been telling them all along…”

Steve laughed. “Those darn lab guys!” he joked, shaking his fist to add to the sarcasm. “Sure, I’ll go take a look and order your tests. What room?”

“415. Don’t be alarmed when you see him playing a video game. He’s been in the hospital almost monthly. He brings his own TV and everything.”

Steve nodded, pursing his lips. “Sounds like a fighter.” Kids suffering from immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM were prone to infection or other autoimmune disorders, even cancer. It was easy for them to fall into depression and self-doubt about their chances. Their disease wasn’t a complete death sentence, but a lot of the infections or diseases they’d become susceptible to could often become such. It was important to keep positive, or at least that’s what Steve thought. He’d seen kids heal and come back from a lot. He’d personally witnessed miracles. He just made damn sure those kids stayed positive.

“Thanks, Steve,” Sharon said, pressing her fingers together and bowing to him lightly before she turned and disappeared into another room. Steve nodded to himself, smiling softly. Nurses practically ran the place. It was a shame that the lab guys were giving them attitude about this kid. Perhaps it was on Dr. Connor’s orders? Maybe the tests they wanted required a physician’s signature?

He decided now was a good a time as any to go see James. His other patient was very stable for now. Steve picked up the file hanging off the room, looking it over. _James Barnes. Sixteen. Diagnosis HIGM (immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM) Complains of severe chest pain and shortness of breath._

Steve knocked a few times on the door before opening it. The room was very dark from the closed blinds. The glow of the TV was flickering as James was atop his sickbed biting his bottom lip as he concentrated on shooting…zombies? Steve's eyes were drawn to the way the boy bit at his lip. He inwardly forced the thought away.

“What game ya playing?” Steve asked.

“Where’s Doc Connors?” James asked, not looking up from his game. “Ah shit!”

Steve raised his brow. He wanted to say something about bad language, but decided against it. Sixteen-year-old boys loved to use colorful vocabulary. It made them think they were more mature. “He’s in surgery. Your nurse, Sharon asked me to look you over.”

James finally paused the game, looking up. At first his eyes rounded and Steve could have sworn he saw a blush creep up those cheeks but the room was a bit too dark to truly be sure. “Dr. Rogers?”

Steve smiled awkwardly nodding. They’d met a few times, but only briefly, mainly when Steve was in residency and did rounds with the other residents and interns. They’d come in, go over James’ diagnosis and someone would be assigned for him for the day, usually the interns so they could learn how to handle such a case. “That’s me. Do you mind if I open the blinds, James?” Steve knew this kid's story though. He was in frequently with infections, pneumonia- the list went on. From the brief times they'd interacted, Steve was sure the boy had a good head on his shoulders.

“It’s Bucky. And sure go ahead.”

“Bucky, huh? Reason for the nickname?” Steve walked over to the blinds, opening them up. He turned around, seeing the boy better. His face was pale and he had red rims around his large, bright-blue eyes as if he’d been crying, but Steve knew better. It was the infection Sharon was sure he had.

“My middle name’s Buchanan. Bucky’s what my dad’s always callin’ me, so,” he shrugged. “Bucky kinda stuck?”

“Alright, Bucky. So talk to me. How’re you feeling?”

Bucky bunched his lips up. He furrowed his brow and looked as if he tasted something foul.

“Are you having phantom tastes?” Steve asked, sitting down on the rolling chair and moving closer to the bed.

“N-no that’s not it,” Bucky said softly. “My friend, Peter Parker, he’s one of your patients. S’told me a lot about you.” Bucky scratched at his nose.

Steve cocked a brow. Peter was in for leukemia. He knew Peter and Bucky were friends, but he was surprised he’d actually been a subject of conversation. Peter had been hospitalized for a few months now. He was also one of Steve’s favorite patients. The kid kept saying he was going to be a doctor one day…if he ever went into remission. “Oh? What’s he been sayin’ about me?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, offering a challenging facial expression.

Bucky laughed. “Said you were really hot with a beard. I didn’t believe him till he pointed you out when I was gettin' blood drawn a few days ago.”

Steve laughed awkwardly, scratching at his beard subconsciously. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get hit on by single mothers or parents going through a divorce while on the job, but a boy being so open about it, especially a sixteen-year-old. Sure he was a relatively young doctor at thirty-one, but he was a lot older than sixteen. “Well, I thought I’d try something new. People say they trust me more with it.”

Bucky laughed, but his face contorted in pain and he grabbed his chest.

Steve was up instantly. He brought his stethoscope up, plugging his ears with it and raising the bottom part to show Bucky. “I’m going to listen to your chest for a minute. Is that okay?”

Bucky’s teeth were clenched and it looked like he was fighting back tears, but he nodded.

“I need you to sit up straight," Steve said as he finished putting on his gloves.

Bucky did as requested, but his shoulders were trembling. Steve went from the chest-opening of the hospital gown down to the boy’s chest, his fingers accidentally bumped against Bucky’s skin. He felt clammy. Steve listened to the sounds…the heart was beating fast, and there was the distinct sound of something swishing around. That was the issue. The heart was enveloped in a sac that had lubricant in it to assist the heart, but sometimes it could become too engorged and that could lead to dangerous outcomes.

“Do you breathe better when sitting up or lying down?” Steve asked seriously, his brow furrowing further as he continued to hear the swishing.

“Sitting up?” Bucky said, his face reddening.

Steve backed up, jotting a few notes down in Bucky’s file. “How long have you been having chest pains? And be honest. I know they didn’t start today.”

Bucky scrunched up his face, biting his lip. Steve would be lying if the way Bucky bit his lip wasn’t a distraction. So he may have let it slip to Peter Parker once upon a time that he liked men over women… He often tried to relate to his patients on a more personal level, so giving out personal information was a great way to connect. Peter had been struggling with coming out to his parents; Steve could relate.

Still, knowing Bucky thought him good-looking didn’t change Steve’s doctor-patient responsibilities and the kid could be suffering from a potentially life-threatening condition. Steve wouldn’t waste his thoughts on admiring how good-looking the kid was. He was a kid…

“Three days ago. I just thought it was stress,” Bucky answered, squirming.

Steve nodded, his brow still creased from concern. “What’re you stressed about?”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I came out to my parents.”

Steve’s mouth dropped. He’d been young too, probably around Bucky’s age when he’d told his mother about how he thought he was gay. She hadn’t accepted it originally, but Steve didn’t fault her for that. It was a tough experience for both of them. They had to change a lot about their lives, but Steve was thankful she accepted it eventually. Now it was almost a nightmare dealing with her teasing about him finding “Mr. Perfect.” He didn’t have time for dating… not now anyway. “How’d that go?” Steve shouldn’t really ask. It wasn’t his place, but…maybe he’d pull out some more information about Bucky’s chest pains, at least that’s the story Steve was going to stick to.

Bucky laughed, grabbing his chest again. “About as well as a heart attack?”

Steve’s eyes drown in sympathy as he scanned the boy over. Bucky’s eyes were glistening as tears built up in the corners. He could tell from how Bucky’s shoulders sunk that it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. The heart attack comment drove that idea home though. Kids often made jokes that dealt with their conditions, Steve knew it was a defense mechanism, as he’d done the same thing as a child, but Bucky’s demeanor radiated an unresolved conflict. Perhaps he was still fighting with his parents about his sexuality.

"I’m gonna page Dr. Connor’s for you, okay?”

“You said he was in surgery?” Bucky responded, his voice an octave higher than what it originally was.

“But he’s your doctor. He’d want to know.”

“Can’t you be my doctor?” Bucky asked. “What if I wanted a change of doctor?”

Steve allowed a twitch of a smile to ghost over his face. He rationalized Bucky’s desire to have him as his physician was because Peter also had him as a physician, but part of him couldn’t deny it was because Bucky thought he was attractive, and Steve felt so proud of that thought…even if it was the last one he should ever have. “I’ll talk to Dr. Connors. But I’m gonna order you an echocardiogram in the meantime, okay?”

“Am I gonna have to have surgery?” Bucky asked; his eyes frantic and round.

“Maybe, but we won’t know till we see the results.”

“Christ, this is frustrating,” Bucky called out, falling against his pillow. “I finally get the hot doctor to talk to me and it’s cause my stupid doctor’s in surgery.”

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes. “You could always say hi when I walk by?” Steve couldn’t ignore the warming that blossomed in his chest at the compliment. He’d grown accustom to people finding him attractive the further he progressed in medicine, but it hadn’t always been that way. He started out the bean pole back in high school. He was the kid with asthma that couldn’t participate in gym class. It was one of the reasons he’d decided to go to med school, and to get much more fit and healthy. “I’ll get Sharon for you okay? We’ll take you to get the echocardiogram now.”

“You’re gonna be there?” Bucky asked, gripping the guardrail on the side of his bed.

“If you want me to. I don’t know if Dr. Connors can step out or not.”

“I want you there,” Bucky responded automatically. “Please?”

Steve nodded, offering a soft, sad smile. He hated seeing kids scared. And here he thought today was going to be relatively low stress-inducing. Who was he kidding? He was a pediatric general physician− a thousand things could go wrong before lunch, and it wasn’t even 9AM yet.

\--

Dr. Connors thankfully was able to be reached. He’d approved the echocardiogram and said he’d come and review the results after he was out of his thoracentesis procedure. Sharon had called Bucky’s parents, getting approval from them as well.

Steve wasn’t quite sure why a pediatric surgeon was assigned as Bucky’s primary physician at the hospital, but Steve figured it had something to do with the fact that Bucky would probably have to face a lot of emergency surgeries in his lifetime. A lot of infections could lead to the necessity of removal, or possible tumors could arise as well. Steve couldn’t deny feeling a sense of utter sympathy for Bucky. The boy was opinionated and from the few minutes Steve had just spent with him, he could tell he was strong-willed and had so much potential. Steve hated this part of the job. He hated scaring kids into thinking that something was wrong with them when it could be absolutely nothing. Bucky’s body could just fix itself if the fluid wasn’t infected. But they wouldn’t know till they got in there…

Steve could remember the days when he was a young kid. He’d be checked into the hospital and words like “lung cancer,” “pneumonia” and “MRSA” were tossed around. It had terrified him to the bone. It had taken everything for Steve not to break down and cry. He was a child! All he knew was that if he got any of that, it was dangerous for a little guy, abnormally small with a genetic predisposition to not be able to withstand most illnesses. Looking at Bucky was sort of like looking in a time capsule. Maybe that’s why Steve was suddenly drawn to him. It had nothing to do with how dark those eyelashes were against the shock of blue irises or the soft curve of those lips… No. It was the parallels of Steve’s own childhood! _‘That’s what I’m running with…’_

* * *

 

Steve really had no reason to be in the room for the echo. Sharon was more than capable of reviewing the results after the radiologist interpreted them, and the technologist performing the echo was obviously more qualified than Steve to be operating the machine, but Steve had said he’d be there. So here he was, standing awkwardly in the corner as Bucky swung his legs absent-mindedly as the technologist explained the procedure to him.

Bucky’s face was tight and Steve could swear he was seeing purpling pool under those red-rimmed eyes now. His first worry went immediately to septicemia or an iron deficiency. Sometimes it was hard to not look at someone and diagnose them with something; it was automatic, like every time a law student watched a movie and someone got hit, they’d automatically start thinking of ways to charge the assailant. It was conditioned into them. 

Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve, offering a shy, yet brave smile. Steve hated how his eyes instantly scanned over those lips, those _young, illegal, and oh so very against the patient-doctor relationship_ lips _._ Steve was allowed to admire right? He was human after all! He was allowed to think this boy was going to be a _stunner_ when he grew up. _‘If he grew up…’_ The thought hit Steve like a freight train. His stomach squeezed and he was pretty sure he tasted his kale smoothie from the morning in the back of his throat. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d do everything he could to make sure this kid stayed alive. Just like he was fighting for Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton. He was fighting for all of them. He’d do everything he could to make sure they all saw their high school graduations and went on to college. He’d personally make sure Peter Parker found his way into the best damn med school the USA had to offer. That kid deserved it after the fight he’d endured.

“Ready Bucky?” the technologist asked.

Steve looked up, seeing Bucky on the bed, his hospital gown open in the front to expose his chest. He was so pale. _‘You’re not supposed to be checking out your juvenile patient you delusional idiot.’_  The machine spurred to life, emitting a gurgling sound as the transducer glided over Bucky’s chest. At least this test utilized sound waves. Steve hated using radiation exams on his patients. Just the idea of all that radiation seeping into the skin was offsetting. The machine started making louder sounds as it went over Bucky’s heart. It was beating way too quickly. Bucky whimpered, probably more out of pain in his chest than fear. He wasn’t allowed to scrunch up or even move. The strain had to be hurting him. He said he was more comfortable sitting up after all. Steve’s heart squeezed. He hated seeing this kid in distress. It dropped a pound of lead into Steve’s stomach.

Steve went behind the computers, watching as the images began to appear on the screen. Since these weren’t being looked at by a radiologist, Steve couldn’t 100% diagnose the situation, but he was pretty sure something was wrong from the palpitations and how big the pericardium looked around the heart. He furrowed his brow, looking up and over to Bucky on the bed. He was biting his lip again. Steve knew he had to be immensely uncomfortable. He watched the images fluctuate on the screen as more pictures were showing up. Steve swallowed hard, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“If he asks, tell him I just went to page Dr. Connors again,” Steve said softly to Sharon. Sharon nodded, watching Steve exit the room.

Steve sat on one of the benches outside the room, opening his phone and paging Dr. Connors. He was pretty sure he still wasn’t out of his surgery but Bucky needed some kind of medicine for the pain, and Steve wasn’t going to step on an attending’s toes and order something for a patient that wasn’t technically his. He sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples.

“Yo, Steve, what’re you doing down here?” Sam Wilson, one of the radiologists asked. Sam had gone to med school with Steve. They’d suffered through internships together at the same hospital, despite being in completely different specialties. Steve considered him his best friend.

“Hey Sam,” Steve greeted tightly. “Got a patient in there. I’m praying he doesn’t need a pericardiocentesis. He’s also got HIGM.”

“Ah shit, man. Hope it’s just some extra fluid.”

Steve nodded, his eyebrows shooting up momentarily in agreement. “Do you think you could check the results? Expedite them for me? Dr. Connors is the primary physician but I’ve been looking after the kid till Connors is out of surgery.”

“Yeah man, no problem. I’ll page you and Connors when I get them.”

“Thanks,” Steve responded, waving a hand before getting up.

“We still on for drinks tonight?” Sam asked, doing his best to offer a sympathetic smile.

“Duh,” Steve said, nodding softly. He offered a wave as he stood from the bench. Seeing Bucky on that bed was making him more anxious than he should feel, but not being in there was probably going noticed by Bucky, and the thought made Steve’s stomach squeeze.

Steve walked back into the radiology lab. He sat behind the computers with Sharon. She was looking at the monitor with a furrowed brow. Her brow was knit together as she ran her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, back and forth, as she concentrated on the images appearing on screen.

“Think it’s inflamed? Think he needs it drained?” Steve whispered.

“Don’t know,” Sharon said. “Not a doctor.” Though there was a hint of a smile at her lips, as if it was some unspoken challenge.

“You could have been,” Steve responded. “You’re smarter than most of the ones I know.”

She laughed quietly. “I think it’s an infection, but we won’t know till a radiologist gets on it,” Sharon responded softly. “This poor kid. He’s been through so much already. He had lung surgery a few months ago.”

 “Has he had a bone marrow transplant before? For his HIGM?” Steve asked, looking back up at Bucky. His stomach turned to ice as he thought of the life Bucky had experienced so far. It sounded like he saw more of a hospital than he saw of a high school. He wondered if the kid had even been kissed yet. He really shouldn’t be wondering if this kid has ever been kissed yet…

“Yeah, twice, it keeps resurfacing. He’s kind of a unique case.”

“Seriously? Which type of strand does he have?” Steve held up his hands, ducking his head a bit as he realized he’d gotten a bit too loud. The technologist had glared at him.

“CD40L deficiency,” Sharon said pinching her nose. “Sorry! I forgot…I didn’t write that in his file…” She smacked her hands down on her legs loudly. The technologist glared at her this time.

 “It’s okay. Mistakes happen. Just…don’t do it again?” His words were soft, and more of a suggestion, but he was sure Sharon wouldn’t ever forget to include the sub-type of a disease again. It could make or break someone’s life.

Sharon smiled, looking over at Steve fully. “You’re a great doctor, you know? You actually _fight_ for your patients. I see a lot of doctors just…give up.”

“I’m not giving up if my patients aren’t giving up. Kids don’t give up.” It was half true. Steve did fight for his patients, but often they did give up. Most of the ones who were too far gone, they’d give up. Steve kept fighting, but they’d give up. Steve didn’t want to see Bucky give up.

Steve looked over to Bucky again. He could see his muscles spasm under his skin as he fought with all his might not to move to mess up the echo. Steve clenched his jaw. This kid had seen so much horror already. Hadn’t God done enough to him? Couldn’t he catch a break for once?

* * *

 

After the echocardiogram, Steve escorted Bucky back up to his room. He pushed his wheelchair, walking slowly down the hall, careful not to hit a person or a gurney.

“So what do you think, Doc? ‘M I doomed?” Bucky asked. There was a hint of sarcasm, but Steve saw straight through it. Bucky was using humor to deflect how scared he was.

Steve laughed. “You’re not doomed, Bucky,” Steve responded, turning the corner, heading toward the elevator. “And I’ve got my best radiologist on your case. We should know the results soon.”

“Whose your radiologist? I know a lot of 'em.”

“Dr. Wilson,” Steve responded.

“Don’t know 'em. Girl or boy?” Bucky asked.

“Man,” Steve corrected. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Aw, man. I like the girls better. They notice shit more.”

“Language!” Steve chastised. “And men are just as good at being radiologists as women. Dr. Wilson is one of the best. Trust me.”

“Sorry, I cuss when I’m nervous.” Bucky squirmed in his wheelchair. “Don’t all doctors have'ta say that?” Bucky asked as they got onto the elevator. “To make sure their patients don’t start freakin’ out?”

Steve scowled. “We don’t _technically_ have to say anything.”

Bucky scoffed. “Oh come on, Dr. Rogers. I ain’t stupid. You docs say whatever will freak the patient out the least. Bedside manner and all that jazz.” Bucky waved a hand dismissively.

The elevator dinged, signaling their floor. Steve continued to push Bucky back to his room. His pager beeped. He looked down, seeing Dr. Connors had responded. He was allowed to prescribe hydrocodone for the pain. Steve pursed his lips, feeling it wasn’t strong enough for Bucky’s pain, but it would have to do. He could always increase it if it wasn’t working.

They got back into Bucky’s room. Steve attempted to help Bucky up but Bucky swatted Steve’s hands away. “I’m not dying yet!” he protested. “I can get into my fucking bed myself.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing. It was painfully obvious this kid was overly scared and suffering. Did Dr. Connors never talk to him? Never reassure him that not everything was a death sentence? “Do you like having a solo room?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Hell no!” he exclaimed. “I used to always room with Peter. Mom thinks he’s a bad influence though.”

“A bad influence? Peter?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “That kid’s great.”

“He’s gay, Doc.” Bucky responded, looking at Steve from the corner of his eyes.

Steve’s heart squeezed. He’d known that already. He’d been the one to speak to Peter about it. He’d helped him come out to his family. It was important…in case…things ended suddenly.

“You gay?” Bucky asked nonchalantly, like he was asking if it was raining outside.

Steve’s mouth dropped open as his eyes rounded to ping-pong balls. “W-what? W-who?” he stammered.

Bucky erupted into a fit of laughter, holding his chest and hissing as pain surged from it. “Jesus Christ!” he protested. “P-Parker told me,” he said through the pain.

“L-let me get you some medicine for the pain. I’ll be right back,” Steve said, shuffling out the door. This kid was something else, that was absolutely for sure. Strong-willed and brave. Steve was pretty sure Peter told Bucky about Steve being gay because it was a comfort thing, seeing an adult be gay when Bucky was going through such a hard time with his family, it was natural to want to have a role model, right? Bucky was just looking for a role model. He just admired Steve… _‘And he thinks you’re hot…’_

He grabbed a script pad from the nurses’ station, scribbling out the recommended dosage that Dr. Connors had suggested over the pager.

“You know,” Sharon said from behind Steve, nearly resulting in him jumping out of his skin. “We have e-scripts now?”

“Oh…yeah. I knew that. I did,” Steve said. He cleared his throat, tugging at his tie.

Sharon watched with scrutinizing eyes as Steve went into the nurses’ station and hopped onto one of the computers, plugging in his information to log on and write the e-script. After he was finished, he sent it off to the pharmacy on the first floor. He’d need someone to run and grab it for him, or he could go… But doctors didn’t typically do that and he now didn’t want to seem like he was avoiding Bucky. If he went to get the script, people could think he was giving special treatment. He certainly wasn’t trying to give special treatment! He fought hard for all his patients! Everyone knew this! _‘Except he’s actually not one of your patients!’_ Steve shoved his face into his hands. He rubbed at his face, scratching at his beard. He was over-analyzing this.

“You okay, Steve?” Sharon asked.

Steve shot up, blinking a few times. “What? I’m fine. Just…I need to go actually contact a family and let a patient go home. I haven’t even checked on my patients yet!” Steve looked at his gold watch, his eyes rounding. “Oh shit! It’s almost noon!”

“Parker's in chemo, Barton has been feeling better, though his white blood cell count is down again and Romanov is still waiting on her lab results,” Sharon listed. “They’re all stable. I discharged Hank this morning. Your neonatal viewing will probably have to be cancelled.”

“Parker’s in chemo?” Steve exclaimed. “I told him I’d see him beforehand! Aw shit.”

Sharon’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re really taking this Barnes case to the heart, huh?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, aren’t you?”

Sharon’s face strained as she pursed her lips. “Steve…” she said heavily. “He’s got HIGM. He’s sixteen…”

Steve knew the statistics. He knew that roughly twenty percent of people with Immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM lived beyond age twenty-five. Bucky’s life expectancy was short, like a roman candle’s at best. Twenty-five if he got lucky. But there was that twenty percent chance and Steve wanted to see Bucky beat the odds. He never did know when to back down from a fight.

Sharon jerked her head in the direction behind Steve. “Dr. Connor’s out of surgery,” she stated. “You should talk to him.”

Steve turned on his heel. He came up to the attending physician, offering a friendly smile. Dr. Connors was a lot older than Steve, and much more experienced. He was also a bit old fashioned. Steve was never to call him anything other than “Dr. Connors” when in his presence. Though Connors did make the offhand comment that he didn’t care what they called him outside of the hospital. He wasn’t a cruel doctor. He was an excellent doctor, just traditional. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Dr. Conners,” Steve said.

“Dr. Rogers. How’s Mr. Barnes?”

“I just sent the script for the hydrocodone you authorized. The radiologists are looking over the echo now.”

“Great,” Dr. Connors responded. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Uh... Dr. Connors?” Steve asked, feeling as if the floor was about to break at any moment. “He’s…I just. Why doesn’t he have a general physician as his primary care?”

Dr. Connor’s brows rose into his surgeon’s cap. His brown eyes rounded and Steve could have sworn he saw his pupils turn into cat-slits. “He’s a unique case. His parents agreed to exploratory  surgery if need be. We thought it best if a surgeon was primary so no one had to authorize the surgery but me.”

“Exploratory surgery? He doesn’t seem to like the idea of surgery,” Steve stated. He was digging a hole. Oh, he was digging a hole fast.

“Dr. Rogers, I can assure you, I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that boy lives to see his college graduation. Excuse me.”

Steve watched as Dr. Conners walked into Bucky’s room, closing the door.

“Steve,” Sharon said. “Parker’s out of chemo. If you wanna go talk to him.”

Steve nodded, his gaze lingering on the Bucky’s door, just a bit longer. Steve was honestly upset that he wasn’t this kid’s primary. He shouldn’t be upset. Bucky was a sixteen-year-old with a slew of medical problems and a twenty percent survival rate. Why did it matter as long as he was receiving the best care? Dr. Connors was an excellent physician. Why was Steve so upset that he wasn’t the primary physician?

* * *

 

Steve walked into Peter’s room, smiling warmly as he saw the boy with his red and blue bandana wrapped around his head. He looked like a superhero with his mask pushed up. Steve would have said that too, if he didn’t have other things on his mind. “You’re friends with Bucky?”

Peter laughed. “He finally talk to you?” He didn’t raise his head from his pillow. Steve sat on the chair next to the bed. Peter was expected to be quite weak after chemo sessions, but he seemed chipper for the moment.

“I saw him earlier.”

Peter smiled softly. “You’re all he talks ‘bout since he saw you wheelin' in Clint forever ago. Likes your beard.”

Steve touched his face, running his fingers through the soft hairs against his face. “And you told him I was gay?”

Peter seemed to recoil, making himself even smaller than he already was. “I thought… I thought it’d be good for 'em. To know. His parents aren’t being so supportive of it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He couldn’t be angry at Peter. Peter was his favorite patient. If this kid died…Steve was honestly sure he’d have a breakdown. “Why good?”

Peter laughed. “Uh, he thinks you’re hot. I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“Peter…he’s sixteen. _You’re_ sixteen. Do you want me to lose my license?”

“…Do you think he’s cute?”

Steve laughed. “You’re intolerable!”

“You’re being evasive! It’s the same as answering! I read it in a psych book!” Peter responded loudly. He started to cough. Steve would commend Peter on his sharp analytical skills if Steve hadn’t become so full of concern about Peter’s well-being.

Steve winced, all the light-hearted twinkling in his eyes vanishing as he reached for a glass of water. He held the cup up to Peter’s lips, allowing him to take a couple of sips.

Peter’s eyes fluttered. “Steve,” Peter whispered out. Peter had been battling leukemia for several years now. He was beyond the formality of calling Steve “Dr. Rogers.” “I just wanted to give him hope. Y’said that’s what helps us hang on. He’s not…hangin' on.”

Steve’s face tightened. He clenched his jaw, looking at the frail, pale boy before him. Sixteen and already so wise and intelligent. It was such a cruelty to see kids slip away long before their time. It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to their families. “You’ve got hope, right, Peter?”

Peter nodded, his eyes now closed. “You’re shovin’ it down my throat. Heck yeah I do.”

Steve laughed. He leaned forward, wrapping the blankets a bit tighter around Peter. “So you’re trying to set me up with a patient huh?”

Peter laughed lightly. “What can I say? I like a good soap opera.”

“You’re a little shit.”

Peter opened one eye, making a pretend gun with his fingers and shooting at Steve. “Heck yeah!”

Peter’s breathing evened out as he slipped into sleep. Steve stood up, glancing at his IV bag and over to the monitors, checking his heart beat. He was fine for now; just tired.

Steve stood there, watching Peter sleep. Peter had told Bucky about Steve… Which was fine, Steve didn’t really care. It was the reason for the action that he cared about. Bucky was a teenager. Steve was an adult…and a doctor. Planting that kind of thought in Bucky’s head could induce so much more stress than what he really needed. Steve couldn’t do that to him, even if the laws weren’t in place. He couldn’t bring more pain on Bucky. Steve was here to heal, not hurt.

Steve left the room. When he was back in the hall, he saw Sharon and Dr. Connors talking in hushed tones. Dr. Connors' lips were pressed into a hard line.

“Dr. Rogers!” Connors exclaimed. “My patient says he wants you as his primary physician.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Steve was dead. Rule number one: you didn’t mess with an attending’s patient.

Steve stood there, wide-eyed and sputtering.

“Aren’t you going to go in there and explain to him his echo results?” Conner asked, pushing the envelope with the results into Steve’s hands. “He needs a pericardiocentesis.”

“Dr. Conners?” Steve gasped, ever so eloquently. He was expecting some kind of argument or pissing contest, but there was nothing.

Sharon was smiling, watching the exchange.

“Your patient needs to know the results, Dr. Rogers. Page me if his parents consent to the procedure. I’ll perform it. Just page me. They should be here soon to go over the tests.”

Steve looked down at the envelope. _Radiologist: Samuel Wilson MD_. Steve hadn’t checked his pager. Maybe Sam had contacted him about this? How did he miss his pager going off? _‘Because you’ve been busy being set up with a sixteen-year-old by another sixteen-year-old…’_ Steve scanned the results for a moment, his heart sinking as he read Sam’s report. There was too much fluid against the heart. It was causing it to strain and push down on the lungs.

Steve knocked, opening the door a few seconds later. Bucky was on the bed. He looked much more comfortable than he had before. Steve assumed he’d been administered the hydrocodone.

“You convinced Dr. Connors to let me be your primary?” Steve asked, cocking his head to the side.

Bucky laughed. “Yup. I’m sly like that.”

Steve laughed. “Oh really now? You know, if he’d been any other doctor, I would have been eaten alive for stealing a patient.”

“Why?” Bucky asked, trying to sit up. He winced, grabbing at his chest.

Steve furrowed his brow as concern etched into the lines around his eyes, hardening him. He hated seeing this kid in pain.

“Doctors have a hierarchy. Interns are the scum of the earth and attending are the gods. I’m a fellow. It’s like a glorified resident. Not an attending. Haven’t you watched _Grey’s Anatomy_?”

“I tend to avoid hospital dramas like the plague. Call me paranoid. He was cool about it, yeah?” Bucky asked.

Steve hadn’t thought about that, about the medical dramas and how it would affect kids like Bucky or Peter. Perhaps they all avoided them because it was too real? Steve had been foolish to never think about it before. “He let me be your primary, so I guess he was cool about it.”

Bucky smiled, flashing a grin of white teeth and soft, plush lips. Steve thought back on Peter’s words. _‘You’re all he talks about…He thinks you're hot.’_ Steve sniffed, trying to bring himself back to the present. He was here to reveal unsettling news for Bucky.

“I’ve got your echo results. We’ll go over them when your parents get here,” Steve answered. “They’re on their way.”

“Oh…” Bucky looked to his feet, pressing one bare foot against the other, rubbing up and down for a moment. “Do they have to be here?”

“You’re a minor. Legally you can’t decide anything for yourself without them.”

“Is it serious?” Bucky asked; his brow furrowing. “Am I okay?”

“It’ll be okay−”

“Cut the bullshit, Doc!” Bucky protested. His eyes hardened as something dark crossed into them. He pouted his bottom lip a bit. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know that lupus and HIV can cause fluid build up.”

Steve felt his heart clench. His heartstrings tugged violently inside as he fell into a chair to keep from being knocked over from the ferocity of the pain in his chest. “Well, you’re not sexually active and as far as I know, you’ve not been sharing needles, so you can’t have HIV. You’re displaying no symptoms of lupus.”

“How do you know I’m not sexually active?” Bucky asked, a blush creeping up his skin.

“It’s in your file,” Steve answered. He of course would remember that. Doctors were supposed to check for sexual activity all the time, but Steve felt dirty knowing this.

Bucky bit his lip, shaking his head softly from side to side. “Will I need surgery?”

“I can’t go over the results without your parents.”

“I need surgery don’t I?” Bucky asked; his voice cracking. “Jesus, I knew it. I fucking knew it!”

“Bucky, hey,” Steve said softly, reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s hand. The boy let him hold it. He laced his fingers into Steve’s. Steve tried to ignore how his heart fluttered from the action. “What’s so scary about surgery?”

“Haven’t _you_ watched medical dramas? So much can go wrong. I keep gettin’ put under every time, more and more. One day I’m not gonna wake up!”

Steve’s brow furrowed as he pressed his lips together. This kid was terrified. His fingers were trembling against Steve’s. He could see the innocence and the fear etched into the dark lines against those stark blue eyes. “Dr. Connors would perform the procedure. You know him. He’s a great surgeon. And it’s not even a real surgery!”

“I can’t do anymore surgery!” Bucky protested.

“Yes you can,” Steve said softly. “You’ve got so much to give, Bucky. Don’t let the fear of a simple procedure be the reason you died.”

Bucky’s lip trembled as his eyes rounded. It was like watching the most priceless chandelier drop from the ceiling as Bucky's face drained of all expression, being replaced with simple, innocent horror. “I’ll die without it?”

Steve nodded, swallowing hard. He let go of Bucky’s hand, shivering as the boy whimpered from the lack of contact. He pulled out the echo results out, showing the image to Bucky. “See this?” He pointed to the heart, dancing his fingers across it as he traced it. “It’s called the pericardium. It’s a sac around the heart. It’s always got some liquid in it, but it can’t hold too much. It’s weighing down against your lungs, which is why you can’t breathe all that well. With your HIGM, you’re at a high chance of contracting a severe infection and dying shortly after. Septicemia is also a concern, even now. If the sac breaks and the fluid’s infected…you could die.”

Bucky allowed soft tears to cascade slowly down his face. His lip trembled as he wiped the tears away, rubbing at his face. “You know I’ve never been kissed?” he said suddenly, his voice cracking.

Steve’s mouth dropped open. _‘Don’t talk about this…don’t talk about this…’_

“I’m sixteen and I’ve never experienced a kiss!” Bucky laughed, it was hollow and full of resentment. “I’m gonna die without ever having been kissed.”

Steve shifted awkwardly in his seat. He felt his spine tingle. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell this kid that his words weren’t true. Bucky was a good-looking boy. He’d find another boy his age worth kissing. _‘Correct. His age.’_ Additionally, with the procedure he’d be fine! There’d be no death sentence here, but that wasn’t the picture Bucky was seeing. He was clearly more intelligent about his condition than he let on. He knew his odds. Everything would seem more urgent to a boy who thought he could die tomorrow.

Steve stared at the echo, looking at the swollen pericardium. They wouldn’t know for sure it was infected till they got the liquid out and tested it. This kid’s story wasn’t going to stop here. He was going to get sicker. He was going to suffer more. What was the point of all this? Why place him on this earth if just to suffer? What did it gain? “You’re not gonna die,” Steve said steadily, breaking his gaze from the results and up to those round, innocent eyes.

Bucky furrowed his brow in anguish, pushing his lips together. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re a fighter. You fought to get me to go to your echocardiogram; you fought to make me your primary physician. You’re not gonna let some procedure kill you. You’re gonna fight for more.”

Bucky offered a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders softly. “Yeah. You’re not gonna get rid of me so fast.”

Steve laughed. “Good! I like stubborn patients.” Steve sat back on his rolling chair, looking up at the door. If Bucky’s parents came in, what would they think of this? Steve was up close to the bed, leaning forward and Bucky was leaning toward Steve. They looked more like friends than a doctor and a patient.

Steve had already shown Bucky his results, which wasn’t breaking any law, but it was customary for doctors to go over the results with parents; people who, in theory, would understand the circumstances better.

“When I make it out of surgery, you’re gonna kiss me, Doc,” Bucky said. His voice was steady and he met Steve’s eyes with such bravery that Steve almost fell backwards off his seat.

“Bucky… I’m a doctor.”

“I’m a patient. I’ve read stories about doctors and patients gettin’ together all the time!”

Steve sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Those were adults, and the patients weren’t patients anymore! You’re sixteen!” This was it. Steve hadn’t expected this moment to come so fast, but he also had underestimated Bucky’s sense of urgency. Bucky didn’t have a secure, true future to look forward to. He had a couple of days, maybe a week and then things would all become guessing games. He could contract cancer from his HIGM tomorrow. He could get a bowl obstruction or an infection of the blood. He could die any day because of his abused immune system. Of course Bucky would see the situation as urgent, because he never knew when things would plummet him to the worst case scenario.

“And you’re thirty-one.” Bucky shrugged. “I asked.”

Steve blinked a few times in surprise. Well, Peter did say that Bucky only talked about Steve since he saw him… This was insane. This kid was throwing himself at Steve and Steve was…entertaining the idea? He was sick. Absolutely and utterly sick! The kid was a _child_ and suffering from a potentially _life-threatening_ illness! Bucky shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of engaging in a romantic situation with a doctor! It would only cause more stress on his body! Steve was here to heal, not hurt. He couldn’t make Bucky’s situation worse. He wouldn’t forgive himself.

_‘It could also give him hope…’_

Steve scratched at his beard. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this… He was going to go down to some sort of special hell tucked away for pedophiles and stupid, dumbass doctors who did too much for their patients. “Fine. You live and I’ll kiss you.”

Bucky smiled brightly. His whole face practically lit up with a gentle glow that emitted from his very core. It was like a morning burst of sun over the horizon, gentle and awe-inspiring. Steve couldn’t deny this kid was good-looking, hell he was almost breathtaking. Give him a couple years to lose some of the roundness of his cheeks and Bucky would be one of the most attractive, if not _the_ most attractive person Steve had ever seen. “Not just some peck, you gotta use tongue!” Bucky detailed.

Steve rolled his eyes. “We can talk about that later,” he said, attempting to table the conversation.

“Shake on it,” Bucky said, offering out his hand. His fingers were dry and cracked. He needed lotion.

“Seriously?” Steve asked, eyeing the boy’s hand.

“Seriously. We shake and you promise you’ll kiss me if I survive my surgery.”

Steve eyed the boy’s hand, feeling his hand start to tingle in anticipation. He didn’t know why he was being so reluctant. It was just a kiss. How much harm could it do? It was just a silly little crush and the second Bucky got what he wanted, he’d move onto some other doctor or nurse, or that's what Steve was going to tell himself. Bucky was just an anxious kid stuck in a hospital who wanted to make sure he had been kissed before he… _‘No, I’m not letting Bucky die.’_

Steve shook Bucky’s hand.

Someone knocked on the door, opening it a moment later. A couple walked in, their eyes drowning with concern and fear. Steve knew these were Bucky’s parents. He stood up; preparing to tell them what the echo  had showed.

All throughout his explanation and his suggestions, he was thinking about how soft those lips were going to feel against his…

* * *

 

Bucky watched Dr. Rogers explain the procedure he’d undergo soon.  He watched those hands reach up into the air and supplement with motions of how the catheter would enter into the sac-thing around his heart to suck out the liquid. Bucky had never been one to remember all the medical jargon, but he knew enough to get by. He watched as Dr. Rogers would reach up and rub his beard when his mom or dad would ask a question. Bucky wasn’t paying a lick of attention to their words. He was simply watching his favorite doctor.

Bucky had first seen Dr. Rogers a few months prior. He’d been laughing and wheeling in a kid with blonde hair; Bucky knew that kid to be Clint Barton. He'd become a friend. It was that smile that drew Bucky to Dr. Rogers. It didn’t just light up his face, but his whole body. He practically radiated protection, comfort and happiness. Bucky wanted that. He wanted to feel protected. In a world of mainly sterile rooms, creamy tiled floors and shitty jell-o, Bucky just wanted to have some semblance of happiness…some idea of someone else worrying about him and offering him so much comfort and protection that Bucky would be enveloped with it, warm and snug as if he were in a blanket that was made from the gentlest of emotions.

For months, Bucky had pined after Dr. Rogers, talking about him constantly to Peter and asking thousands and thousands of questions. He’d even taken a few candid pictures of him and would go through them on his phone when he was back in the hospital for some infection or illness. He’d been resigned to the fact that Dr. Rogers would never actually hold a conversation with him; just short time of day kind of conversations. Bucky of course would stare off at him as the man had glided down the hallway, smiling and waving at other patients. When he'd smile at Bucky...it was like the rest of the world paused for a moment. It was like Dr. Rogers had administered a highly addictive drug into Bucky's system and he craved more. Then there were the rounds…

Dr. Rogers had come in one day with a group of interns, showcasing Bucky like a zoo animal. Some intern would end up being Bucky’s bitch for the day and Dr. Rogers would leave as quickly as he’d come in. He’d glance at Bucky, smile and ask how he was feeling, but it was all so sterile. He’d been there to teach, not to engage. But today… Today Bucky had drawn the winning lottery ticket.

Dr. Rogers was his consulting physician, and not just that, but Bucky had utilized each and every moment he had with the doctor to make his move and show his intentions. Bucky had fallen so hard for this physician that he couldn’t decide if it was obsession or love. Peter would say it was obsession. Bucky liked to think much more optimistically, but the little voice in the back of his head always tried to see reason. Bucky didn’t know what love was, but that didn’t stop him from pretending he may be in love with Dr. Steve Rogers.

As luck would keep giving it, Bucky had convinced Dr. Connors to let Dr. Rogers be his primary physician at the hospital. Everything was going the way Bucky wanted. _‘Except you had to get so sick for it to even happen…’_

The fear Bucky had… the bone-chilling trepidation as death got closer and closer, flirting with him and waving his way, just making sure he knew it was there… Bucky had faltered. He’d been so excited to see Dr. Rogers come into his room that for a brief moment, he’d forgotten the pains in his chest each time he breathed, or the way it felt his ribs were breaking when he gasped for air. For that brief moment, he was face to face with Dr. Rogers, his crush, his obsession, whatever, and life was finally repaying him for all the shit it had flung at him.

Then he needed the procedure…

Bucky hated the idea of surgery (or procedure or whatever the doc's wanted to call it). He’d had a few minor procedures in the past, a couple of bone marrow transplants, and then his lung operation… He’d felt sick for weeks after and it hurt so bad to breathe. He was in so much pain now, but it had been so much worse then. He’d wanted to give up. He’d wanted to just hold his breath till he passed out and somehow make himself keep not breathing and just…end. That surgery was his wakeup call. He was going to die. He was going to die, never knowing what a university room looked like, or what it felt like to be with a lover. He was going to die without ever seeing a beard grow full and thick against his face or the tired, baggy eyes in the reflection after he’d come home from a long day at the office. He was going to die. He was going to die…

“Bucky?” Dr. Rogers asked, his brow furrowing with that cute, little dimple between his brows. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Bucky could feel his heart struggling in his chest. He was getting himself worked up. His breathing was shallow but Dr. Roger’s voice was soothing, like someone running their fingers into Bucky’s hair and down his neck. He could feel the relaxation coil over him as he listened to Dr. Rogers’ voice.

He was having surgery today… His stomach went cold as he thought back to his fear. He was having surgery today…

“I ate today? Don’t surgeries have to be when I’ve not eaten?” Bucky asked, biting his lower lip.

“It’s a small procedure,” Dr. Rogers said. “You’ll be okay.”

“You’re putting me under right?”

Dr. Roger’s face contorted tightly. He pressed his lips together, pulling a beautiful red into them from the pressure. Bucky couldn’t wait to feel those lips against his. It had been a long shot, but Dr. Rogers actually agreed to it! He’d shook on it! Peter had made Bucky well-aware that while Dr. Rogers was friendly, he was always professional, but Bucky was dying… He didn’t have anything to lose if Dr. Rogers had rejected him.

“N-no. Not entirely. You’ll be under local anesthetic. You won’t remember the procedure, but you won’t be asleep either.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open. He could feel his heart slamming against that sac-thing as it attempted to escape its confines. That was almost as bad as not waking up from surgery! “W-what’ll I feel? Will I think I’m asleep? Will I hear anything? Can I feel it?” Bucky wadded up the blankets around him into his fists. He fought his lungs as they tried to make him hyperventilate, but he knew it was all in his head. He didn’t need his lungs breaking again. He didn’t want anything else to go wrong with him!

Bucky looked to his parents frantically. He wasn’t searching for comfort or love. His mother found Bucky’s newfound homosexuality a desperate plea for attention and his father had already decided that if Bucky chose to be gay, that he’d only speak to him when necessary. Chose? As if this was a choice! Bucky was struggling enough with his very _existence_! Yet his father was thinking him being attracted to men was a choice? _‘I need to calm down…I need to calm down…’_

“It’ll be like your sleeping,” Dr. Rogers answered. “You may hear things, but you won’t register them. It’s more like a dream-state.”

Bucky nodded, desperately trying to cling to the image of Dr. Rogers’ gentle bright eyes and that beard. Was it soft to touch? Would it tickle against Bucky’s lips as their faces got closer? He shivered at the thought. “Dr. Connors is gonna do it?” Bucky squeaked.

Dr. Rogers smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with all the warmth and comfort Bucky desperately needed. “Yes, and I’ll be in here too. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling his throat turn to sandpaper. The idea of being awake and yet not was rather disorienting. The idea of a giant needle going right at his heart was also not the most comfortable thought, but this was better than open-heart surgery. Bucky was going to take whatever he could at this point. _‘And I get to kiss him after…’_

“I’ll page Dr. Connors. We’re gonna let you stay in here for the procedure,” Dr. Rogers said, pulling out his phone.

“Doesn’t he need a sterile environment?” Bucky’s mom asked, her eyes widening.

“It’s extremely non-invasive. Aside from the tools used, there’s really no reason for an OR. He won’t even lose but a drop of blood, if any.”

Bucky’s eyes shut tight as he felt his chest boil with pressure. “D-doc…” he gasped. “It hurts…”

Bucky heard the sounds of elastic hitting against skin. Dr. Roger’s newly-gloved hands were at his throat, checking his pulse and he had the other hand down Bucky’s hospital gown, caressing at the skin as he searched for a diagnosis with just touch. Bucky wasn’t complaining. 

“It’s just the fluid moving,” Dr. Rogers responded, that adorable dimple creasing between his brows. “It’ll be gone soon. You’ll feel a lot better.”

“And you’ll test it for infection?” Mom asked.

Dr. Rogers pulled away, his hand lingering just a bit too long against Bucky’s neck. Bucky sighed heavily when he finally pulled away. He wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in those arms. Would he be warm? He was always cold in the hospital. The rooms were too small and they always kept his door shut. It made rooms freeze almost instantly. He assumed he’d be warm if Dr. Rogers was holding him.

“Yes, we’ll run several tests. I’ll call you as soon as I get the results back.”

“You’ll call?” Bucky’s dad asked, his bushy brows rising.

Dr. Roger’s brow furrowed and he swayed back on his heels for a moment. “I know how worried you are. I do things a little differently that Dr. Connors. So yeah, I call and go over the results with you.”

If Bucky’s heart wasn’t too focused on beating erratically out of his chest, he was pretty sure it’d be melting against that sac-thing. Dr. Rogers was unlike any doctor Bucky had ever had. He’d had countless doctors, each one from every specialty but Dr. Rogers was his favorite. He was beautiful _and_ a genuinely good person. Peter would talk for hours about how Dr. Rogers would fight insurance companies for him, or stay up into the early hours just to make sure Peter was able to sleep through the night without issue. Bucky had fallen in whatever-love-obsession-thing he had for Dr. Rogers because of those stories.

Dr. Rogers’ phone beeped in his pocket, he looked down at it, pulling it out and looking back at Bucky. “Dr. Connors is on his way.”

Bucky sat there, trying his best to calm his erratic, shallow breaths. This was going to be fine. He’d be with Dr. Connors and Dr. Rogers. They wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him.

Bucky’s gaze snapped up when he heard the door open. A flash of pink walked in as Sharon offered a bright smile toward Bucky. He’d always liked Sharon. She was one of the nicest nurses on staff. Bucky had been around plenty of nurses that didn’t care anymore, or they just went about their motions. He liked the ones that took their jobs seriously. He liked doctors that still cared… Dr. Rogers cared.

“Gotta get you prepped and ready to go, Buck,” Sharon said. She put on some gloves. She turned to Dr. Rogers, but whatever facial expression she gave was unreadable to Bucky. He did watch Dr. Rogers smile and nod.

“We should give her some room,” Dr. Rogers said. He escorted Bucky’s parents out of the room. Bucky felt a bit better. He hated having to fidget under his father’s gaze.

“How do you like Dr. Rogers?” Sharon asked. She nudged for Bucky’s legs to go under the blankets. She rolled them back to his hips.

“He’s really awesome,” Bucky answered. He couldn’t hide the blush that warmed at his cheeks.

Sharon looked up, laughing lightly. “You should have seen his face when Dr. Connors said he’d be your primary. He looked like he was going to explode.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped as a rush of butterflies tickled his insides. “He said he thought Dr. Connors was gonna be mad at ‘em.”

Sharon nodded, her smile still plastered atop her pink lips. “Yeah. He’s pretty polite. Doesn’t like stepping on anyone’s toes. But I think he’s my favorite doctor here. We’re gonna take your gown off. Is that okay?”

Bucky laughed. “He’s my favorite too.” Bucky helped Sharon slip his gown off. She raised the head of the bed to a soft angle, pushing against Bucky’s stomach for him to lie against it.

“Comfy?” she asked.

“Imma ‘bout to get a giant needle into my chest. I’m comfy as I’ll get.”

“You’re going to be fine,” she said, taking his hand and cupping her other one over it. “It’s quick and painless. You’ll be up again before you know it.”

“What if there’s an infection though?” Bucky asked, feeling fear coil around his spine.

Sharon’s lips turned down. “Then we’ll treat it. You’ve got the best doctor looking after you. You’re going to be just fine.”

 _‘They always say that…’_ Bucky thought bitterly. He looked away from Sharon, staring at his inactive monitors. He wasn’t hooked up to anything right now. Doctors and nurses…they always said things were going to be “just fine.” Bucky knew it was code for, “We have no idea how long you’ll live, but this is how we keep you from freaking out.”

“Ready for the IV?” Sharon asked as she took Bucky’s arm, wrapping the tourniquet above his elbow so his veins would rise up.

Bucky whimpered as the cold sensation of realization washed over him. This was happening. He was going to have a giant needle shoved at his heart and fluid was going to be pulled from it. He was going to be awake…but he wasn’t. “Can I talk?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I talk when I’m under local anesthetic?”

Sharon nodded. “You can mumble. You won’t be coherent though.”

Bucky sighed, a small sense of relief numbing his insides. At least he wasn’t going to spew all his unspoken desires about Dr. Rogers to the room. He felt the prick of the needle and the cooling sensation hit his veins as the IV was set up. He looked down at it, shocked she’d done it without saying anything.

“Hurts less when you’re not paying attention, yeah?” she asked, sporting a knowing smile.

“Y-yeah,” Bucky said, eyeing it with wonder. “Am I gonna start gettin' loopy now?”

“Not yet,” she responded. “We’ll insert the Versed when Dr. Connors is ready.”

Dr. Connors and Dr. Rogers came back into the room. Dr. Rogers was slightly pale and his brow was furrowed heavily as he tried to offer a smile at Bucky. It was strained and made him look more constipated than anything, but Bucky still nodded back at him. If they were going to put their brave faces on, he was going to do the same, or at least try. He knew he wasn’t fooling any of them.

“Ready Buckaroo?” Dr. Connors asked, using the nickname he’d given him about a year ago.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I just want it over with,” he mumbled.

Dr. Rogers stood on the other side of the bed with the monitors. “You’re gonna be great,” he said in a warm, reassuring tone. Bucky wanted to believe him. But if it wasn’t this thing that killed him, it would be something else. Either way, Bucky would eventually come face to face with something he couldn’t shake off. It was only a matter of time till…

_‘I’m going to die…’_

* * *

 

Bucky woke up in his room. His TV had been pushed to the corner along with his PS4. The blinds were open but it was dark out. He looked down. He was back in a hospital gown. He pulled at the collar, looking at the bandage that resided just under his sternum. He pursed his lips. He thought he’d have some kind of wound atop his heart, but clearly that’s not how this procedure went. _‘I’m alive…’_

He breathed in deep, feeling his heart flutter and steady. It felt…normal. He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. He was alive. Everything went just fine. It really was…just fine.

_‘I get to kiss Dr. Rogers now…’_

Bucky cracked his door, peaking out into the hallway. The nightshifts were always quieter, most likely to not disturb the patients, but the amount of nurses and doctors walking around was always the same.

Bucky stepped out into the hallway, his feet padding against the floor. He walked up to the nurses’ station. “Is Dr. Rogers still here?” he asked.

The nurse looked up and smiled. “Oh yeah! He’s been waiting to see when you woke up.”

“I thought they put me under local anesthetic?” Bucky asked, cocking his head to the side.

“They did. They gave you something to help you sleep after.”

Bucky nodded. “You’ll tell ‘em I’m awake, yeah?”

“Already paged him,” she said, leaning forward over her keyboard. “Go back to your room, k sweetie?”

Bucky nodded, turning on his heel and walking back into his room. He crawled back onto his bed. His heart was racing, but not because of the fluids anymore. He was nervous. He was going to kiss Dr. Rogers. He didn’t really even know how to kiss! He’d seen it in movies, but he wasn’t sure if he knew exactly how to do it. His eyes rounded as he brought his hands against his cheeks. _‘What if he hates the way I kiss? What if I do it wrong?’_

There was a knock at the door. Dr. Rogers walked in, offering a soft, uncertain half-smile.

_‘Does he hate me? What if he really doesn’t wanna do this?’_

Bucky felt his toes go cold. He pouted, rubbing his hands at his knees from atop the covers.

“How’re you feeling?” Dr. Rogers asked. He grabbed the rolling chair, sliding it over next to the bed and sat atop it.

“I can breathe. My heart’s slower.”

Dr. Rogers put on his stethoscope. He leaned forward, slipping the cool metal beneath Bucky’s gown. Bucky hissed softly from the cold shock, but he settled. He paid more attention to Dr. Rogers’ scent. He smelled like almonds and aftershave.

“You sound better,” Dr. Rogers said, sitting back and wrapping his stethoscope over his neck. “No more weird, swishy sounds.”

“It swished?” Bucky asked, his mouth parting in astonishment.

Dr. Rogers laughed. “Yeah, a bit. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary with this kind of thing. We sent the fluid to the labs. Should know in a day or two. Till then, we’re keeping you here.”

Bucky had never been so excited to stay at the hospital in all his life.

“If there’s nothing, you get to go home.”

Bucky didn’t hide the look of anguish that washed over his features, creasing his brow and hardening his jaw.

Dr. Rogers saw it too. He sighed, scooting just a bit closer to the bed. “I know you’re having a hard time with your parents, but…they’ll accept it eventually. You can’t drop a bomb and except them not to react.”

“My dad won’t speak to me,” Bucky defended. “And it’s not a bomb. I’m the same person I was a week ago.”

Dr. Rogers nodded. “Oh I know. I’ve been there. I had the same argument with my mom when I first told her. She cried a lot. Didn’t wanna hug me anymore. Lamented about never having grandkids. It’s an adjustment. They have to adjust just like you do.”

“So you are gay?” Bucky asked coyly. He’d always known, Peter would never lie to him, but it was nice to hear the words from Dr. Rogers’ mouth. It was nice to hear it from someone who’d struggled just as much as Bucky was.

Dr. Rogers laughed, his cheeks dusting with a rosy red. “You already knew that,” he said softly.

“I just wanted to hear it from you,” Bucky responded, matching Steve’s softer tone. The room fell into an awkward silence. Dr. Rogers sat back in his chair. He looked to be having some kind of internal debate. Bucky listened to the soft _woosh_ from the air conditioner.

“Bucky…” Dr. Rogers began. He sighed heavily.

 _‘No don’t say it.’_ Bucky sat up, his eyes widening as he bit his bottom lip. _‘Don’t tell me I can’t have this.’_

“I know I said I’d kiss you but−”

_‘Don’t let me die like this.’_

“You’re sixteen. You’re my patient. I’m now your primary−”

_‘Don’t take this away from me.’_

“I’m gonna do everything I can for you but−”

_‘Please don’t leave me.’_

“I’m your doctor. There’re rules. I could lose my license. I could be imprisoned.”

_‘Please don’t take away the last hope I had left.’_

Bucky could feel his extremities begin to shake. He swallowed hard, hearing his pulse in his ears. “I’m gonna die…” he said. He wasn’t sure if Dr. Rogers was finished talking or not, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m gonna die and I’ll never know what it feels like to be kissed.”

“That’s not true, Bucky,” Dr. Rogers countered. “You’re a good-lookin' boy. You’ll find someone.”

Bucky rounded on his doctor, grabbing at the railing that blocked him from the other man. “When? While I’m in here? Surrounded by doctors and nurses twice, thrice, my age? Am I gonna kiss some kid whose just as sad and desperate as me? Am I gonna move into his room and watch him slowly waste away into nothing and then get to do the same? My mom home schools me! My dad won’t let me meet any other kids. They took me away from Peter! When am I gonna meet someone?”

Dr. Rogers’ mouth dropped open. His eyes filled with something deep, perhaps realization, sympathy…pity. Bucky didn’t want his pity. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. He felt sorry enough for himself. He tore his gaze away from the man; from that beard, those eyes…those hands. He closed his eyes, gasping for air as he tried to steady himself. “Please,” he whined. “Please don’t do this to me.”

He heard Dr. Rogers exhale a long sigh. He heard the sounds of the railing being detached. He felt the weight of someone sitting next to him. He opened his eyes, seeing Dr. Rogers’ face. He reached up, running his fingers through the man’s beard. He’d never be able to grow a real beard like this. He still wasn't able to even get a light peach fuzz against his skin.

“You can’t tell Peter about this,” Dr. Rogers whispered.

Bucky swallowed, licking his lips anxiously. “I won’t.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Dr. Rogers said, more urgently.

“I won’t, Dr. Rogers,” Bucky said more adamantly.

“Steve. When it’s just you ‘n me, call me Steve.”

Bucky’s heart fluttered as…Steve…grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his beard. He scooted a bit closer, leaning his head down. Bucky moved closer, lifting his face so his lips brushed against Steve’s. They were soft, but the edges tickled as his beard grazed against Bucky’s skin. Steve led, pressing his lips firmer against Bucky’s, sucking in Bucky’s bottom lip and gliding his tongue over it. Bucky gasped; his arms reaching up to wrap around the man’s shoulders.

Was this what it felt like to be loved?

Was this what it felt like to have another person so close?

Bucky gingerly pushed his tongue out, tasting Steve’s tongue, feeling the taste buds that dotted it. Steve pulled away. Bucky’s world was falling.

“Turn your head to the side, like mine,” Steve said before going back in. Bucky followed the order, giggling softly into the kiss as he found Steve push more of his tongue into his mouth. Bucky followed Steve’s lead, turning his head when Steve did, mimicking Steve’s moves as Steve would suck against Bucky’s lip, Bucky would close the kiss only to start a new one where he’d suck against Steve’s lips. Bucky could hear the sounds of lips smacking as they got wetter and wetter. He couldn’t suppress the moan that lifted from his vocal chords.

Steve pulled back, brushing his nose against Bucky’s as he allowed a breathy chuckle to pass from his lips. “You’re a fast learner.” He sat back, but he didn’t get off the bed.

Bucky couldn’t deny the rush that caressed over his skin; spinning the room and making him feel like he was floating. “Can we do that again?”

Steve pursed his lips as he looked over to the door. “Right now?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Now, tomorrow, the day after…”

Steve straightened his back. “We shouldn’t.”

“So that means you’re gonna give in and say yes, right?” Bucky asked, biting the side of his lip.

Steve looked at him, and did a double-take as his eyes dropped to Bucky’s lips. He laughed, leaning back down. He whispered, “I really like it when you bite your lip like that.” He pressed a soft kiss against Bucky’s lips. Bucky was too slow to deepen the kiss and Steve was already pulling back, but Bucky felt a sense of accomplishment. Steve thought he was attractive… he liked it when he bit his lip… Bucky could have Steve. Bucky could wrap this man around him and use him to shield him from the world; from the harsh reality of Bucky’s existence. Obsession? Love? Lust? Bucky didn’t know. He didn’t care right now. He wanted this. He wanted to experience all Steve had to offer before...

_'I'm gonna die.'_

“So…that’s a yes?” Bucky asked. He bit his lip, knowingly this time.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Christ, Bucky, yes, yes we can do it again,” he said with an exasperated tone, but there was a gentle smile on his swollen lips.

“So, you're my dirty little secret then?” Bucky asked, feeling rather proud of the idea. A warmth blossomed in his chest, rooting itself against his sternum and pushing inward.

Steve rolled his lips in, shrugging. “Dunno. Guess we’ll just have to find out.” He stood up, putting the guardrail back up. Just like that, Steve was no longer Steve…he was Dr. Rogers again and Bucky hated how far away he suddenly felt. “You should sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ve been sleepin’ all day!” he protested. “I’m gonna be up all night!”

Steve shrugged. “I could slip you some Tylenol PM?”

“Woah, Doc! Ain’t that illegal or somethin’?”

Steve laughed. “It’s just Tylenol PM. It’s over the counter!”

Bucky couldn’t believe this. The tips of his fingers and toes were tingling in excitement. He’d taken his chances. He had nothing to lose anyway. He saw the opportunity the second Steve walked into the room, and now he’d kissed him. He’d actually kissed him! It wasn’t scary. It was easy; second-nature. For a moment, Bucky knew what it felt like to actually…live.

“I’ll just play video games till I pass out,” Bucky said, scooting out of the bed and rolling his TV over to his bed. “Nurses don’t care.”

“You’re pretty tall for your age,” Steve blurted.

“I’m six foot,” Bucky stated, cocking an eyebrow. “You didn’t read _that_ in my file?” He plopped back down onto his bed, crossing his legs, Indian style, and turned on the console.

“I was too busy being concerned with the fluid around your heart,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Please sleep tonight, Buck.”

“Will I get another kiss if I do?” Bucky teased, waggling his eyebrows tauntingly as he licked at the side of his mouth.

Steve rolled his eyes. “We’ll see in the morning. And I’ll know. I get back at 7AM.” Steve walked over to the door, pausing as he cracked it a bit. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Night, Doc,” Bucky responded. His game booted up and he went through the motions of selecting his last save. His fingers did most of the work as he completed his missions and executed the zombies. His mind was in a whole other dimension. It was wondering what tomorrow was going to be like, knowing that Dr. Steve Rogers had kissed him…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? This is the first AU I've ever written, so be gentle? X'D I'd love to hear from you <3
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)  
> We should be friends. I like friends. Haha


	2. Pericarditis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to be cheesy and gush about how thankful I am for everyone who has supported this story even with only having one chapter to go off of. All the comments, kudos, bookmarks, the tumblr shares and the compliments have made me so happy. I love hearing from you guys as I really want to be part of this fandom's community. My tumblr link is at the bottom. I'd love it if we could be friends! Just let me know your tumblr name and I'll follow you as well! <3
> 
> Check out this amazing photoset that [IdRatherHaveYouMetalArmOrNot](http://idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot.tumblr.com/) made for me!  
> [CLICK ME!!](http://l1av.tumblr.com/post/120212779333/idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot-get-to-know-me/)

Steve hadn’t slept so well last night. Most of the night he spent tossing and turning in his bed till he was an overly complicated burrito of anxiety and regret. It was against hospital rules to engage in a romantic relationship with a patient. It was against the _law_ to engage in a romantic relationship with a minor. It was against the Hippocratic Oath to harm, not heal. He was doing more harm than good. He was breaking laws, rules, oaths and it was eating at him till he was a discarded mothball cast aside to be shamed. Bucky could die. Bucky could contract any sort of cancer, pneumonia, bronchitis, even the common cold and he could die! He didn’t need the stress of a relationship plaguing at his fragile immune system.

But those lips…those silken, smooth, sultry, _sweet_ lips. Or how Bucky had wrapped his arms around Steve as if he’d needed this all his life, or the way he’d gently touched his beard; his long fingers caressing down his face. How _tall_ he actually was. Frankly, when patients are always sitting, it’s easy to forget how tall they actually are. Bucky was almost as tall as Steve. Everything about his body registered as being mature or about to embrace adulthood and yet Steve knew better. He knew that body was sick and struggled ten times as hard to cling to life each and every day. He knew that body was delicate, like a glass house atop a fault line and any sudden movements would have it all come shattering down.

So Steve didn’t sleep that night. He wouldn’t even considering it napping. When his eyes were open, he would think of Bucky. He’d think of the regret. When his eyes were closed, he’d think of the ecstasy he felt kissing those lips.

_‘I’m going to hell…’_

Steve had dragged himself into the hospital, not caring that the rain showered down against his shoulders, dotting his lab coat as the sky cried over his mistakes. He entered the hospital, opting for a different route up to the pediatrics ward instead of through the ER. He didn’t need that kind of anxiety in his life too. The last thing he needed was…

“Steve! Steve, hey wait!”

Steve winced, his spine tingling as he’d been caught. 

Sam and another man, Dr. Bruce Banner walked up to him, both with furrowed brows and looks of concern etched into their dark eyes. “You skipped out on us last night,” Bruce said.

Steve ran his hands roughly over his face. “Yeah,” he drawled. “I had a patient who was nervous about a pericardiocentesis. I didn’t leave the hospital till he woke up.” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I remember. Barnes right? That was one hell of a swollen pericardium.” 

“You’d think as a neurosurgeon, I wouldn’t be fazed by heart issues, but heart issues still make me queasy,” Bruce said, grabbing at his stomach for emphasis. “Is he okay now?” 

Steve clenched his jaw. He was okay now… but then there was tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after… “Yeah. He’s stable.”

“We’re gonna go out again tonight, it’s fifty cent chicken wings. I swear if you’re not there, I’m gonna blow up your phone till you’re forced to break it. Then I’ll come to your house…” 

Steve laughed. “Okay, okay! I’ll be there.” 

As Steve took each step further and further away from his colleagues, his heart weighed heavier and heavier. He’d kissed a patient. He’d kissed a patient and now he was hiding it. He felt dirty, like there was a patch of grease under his skin that he couldn’t clean off. He bit his bottom lip; shocks of white lines raised like lighting against his skin as he tugged his lip forward against the pressure. He’d kissed a patient. He’d kissed a potentially dying patient. 

And he liked it. 

He slid his ID against the pediatric ward doors, hearing the familiar click and watching as the doors automatically opened. The rest of the hospital was rather calm, with pictures of beaches, rivers and birds hanging on the walls, but in here, the pictures were bright and obnoxious with dinosaurs, fantastical scenes of horses flying, unicorns, gods and mythical creatures. It was meant to be uplifting…all it did for Steve was make him realize he’d truly kissed a child. 

He stormed over to the nurses’ station, sitting on one of the chairs heavily as he went through the basket of fresh lab results. He’d need to see if Natasha Romanov’s results were back yet. He also couldn’t help but look for Bucky’s even though he knew those wouldn’t be ready till at least tomorrow. 

He pulled up Natasha’s results, scanning over the numbers. It was official. She had been suffering from Chronic Bronchitis this entire time. Rolling his eyes, Steve scratched at his beard in irritation. Her parents had ignored the signs. She could have been treated so much sooner, but now her lungs were scarred from the damage of heaving, coughing and the excessive mucus production. Though there was a silver lining- she wouldn’t die from this. She’d just be inconvenienced. Still, Steve wanted to perform a few X-rays to make sure the scarring wasn’t going to impede on her day-to-day activities, otherwise they’d need to perform surgery. He’d keep her here for a couple more days. 

“You look like you had a rough night,” Sharon said as she rested her upper body over the nurses’ station’s desk. “Party hard with Dr. Banner and Sam?” 

Steve laughed. “No. My brain decided last night was a good night to question every action I’ve ever taken.” It was partly true, except it was more focused on a one Bucky Barnes; a kid with HIGM, with a twenty percent survival rate… 

“Ouch. You quitting your day job and going to be an artist?” Sharon asked as she leaned back up, grabbing a chart and paging through. 

“Ha, no. Being a doctor is the only choice in my life I think I _don’t_ regret.” 

Sharon’s face contorted as her brow furrowed and her eyes weighed heavy within her face. She pursed her lips, offering a soft shrug of one of her shoulders. “Need to talk about it?” 

“I’ll be fine. I just need to drown in some work. How’s Parker?” 

Sharon’s face brightened. “Great! He ate a full breakfast a little bit ago. We took some blood, just to be sure, but he seems pretty happy right now.”

Steve exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. “That’s excellent! I’ll poke my head in later. I’m going to order X-rays for Romanov. Wanna make sure she doesn’t have any major scarring on her lungs.” 

“So it was CB?” Sharon asked, cocking her head to the side.

“You should’a been a doctor,” Steve said, standing up and handing her his written X-ray order. She’d take it from there.

Steve walked down the halls, his hands shoved down into his lab coat’s pockets. He stopped in front of room 415. His stomach sank and he felt his legs turn to lead. He couldn’t check on Bucky…not yet. He decided to rationalize that it was only 7:30AM and the kid should be asleep. _‘The kid…Jesus Steve…’_  

Sighing heavily, he dragged himself away, feeling his joints protest as he moved further and further away. Bucky didn’t need Steve and all the stress it entailed. He didn’t need a man twice his age corrupting his innocence and hardening him. _‘But he could die…’_

Steve turned the corner, slamming his fist into the wall as he mashed his teeth together loudly, hearing the methodic, coarse sounds in his ears. It hurt, but he kept doing it. Why did he agree to kiss Bucky? He could have laughed it off, pulled some charming smile and a reason why he couldn’t, but he decided to kiss him. He was telling him it wasn’t going to work, he was telling him he couldn’t and then he did… He saw the fear…the desperation and anxious desire. Bucky needed it. He didn’t know if he’d get a tomorrow but that kiss had been certain. Steve gave Bucky certainty. 

Leaning against the wall, Steve stared at a painting of Dumbo. Bucky was in the pediatrics ward. Bucky was a child. Steve was a doctor. Steve was an adult. Bucky needed Steve. Steve…didn’t know what to do. 

He bit his lip, flicking his eyebrows up momentarily as he nodded silently. He’d get through this. He’d find a way to make sure this didn’t get too far before it’d cause Bucky serious damage. He just had to be delicate about it. 

Composing himself, Steve walked down the halls, smiling and saying hello to the nurses that he passed. His eyes softened as he saw Natasha being wheeled out of her room. He came to stand before her, kneeling on one knee. “Sharon tell you the good news?” he asked.

Natasha laughed, her rosy, round cheeks rising to her eyes. “I’m not dying,” she said happily. “Thought they put the kids that’re dying in here.” 

Steve scoffed. “No! Just the kids that’re sick. We don’t discriminate.”  

“D’you think I’ll need surgery?” Natasha asked, her eyes growing in size as concern engorged them. 

“That’s why we ordered the X-ray. And even if you do, you’re gonna pull through. You’re way too strong.” 

Natasha giggled, rolling her eyes. “You flirting with me, Dr. Rogers?” 

Sharon laughed.

Steve’s mouth dropped in astonished humor. “Natasha! Now why would a pretty girl like you think I’d be flirting with her?” 

Natasha playfully hit Steve’s shoulder. “You’re too old for me!” she exclaimed, though her eyes sparkled like glistening diamonds.

Steve stood up, smiling and waving goodbye, but his face faltered as soon as they were further down the hall. Natasha was seventeen. Bucky was sixteen… He was too old for both of them. He brushed off his scrubs (he decided he wasn’t going to wear a suit under the lab coat today) and shoved his hands back into his pockets, slouching over. 

His gaze went to the hall across from him, by the nurses’ station. Bucky’s hall… He couldn’t. He couldn’t see him yet. It wasn’t even 8:30AM yet. Steve turned, feeling his heart squeeze as he walked toward Peter’s room. It was honestly the most interesting sensation when a doctor needed to seek solace and comfort from a patient…and not the other way around, but Steve adored Peter like he adored his numerous nieces and nephews. Steve needed to be around Peter right now. 

He knocked on the door, opening it up and striding in, cocking his brow as he saw Peter’s face shoved into a biology book. “What’re you learning ‘bout today?” Steve asked. 

Peter looked up, pushing the red and blue bandana up off his forehead a bit, but it slid right back down. “Nervous system. Did you know our body is like a Christmas tree? Our brain lights up!” 

Steve laughed, pulling the rolling chair over by Peter’s bed. “Did you know that there are more nerve cells in the brain than there are stars in the Milky Way?” Steve offered, raising his brows proudly. 

Peter’s eyes rounded. “No way! Bodies are so cool.” He shoved his nose back into the book, a small smile playing with his small, pale lips. 

“You and Bucky…” Word vomit. Steve wasn’t supposed to be talking about this. “If you’re gay and he’s pretty sure he’s gay…” 

Peter laughed. “Really Steve? You’re gay too. By that logic, shouldn’t we all be dating? The whole gay population in one big giant relationship!” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just mean, you two are friends, both attractive−” 

“You think I’m attractive?” Peter asked. Blush flushed into his cheeks. There was more life on that face than there had been in a long time.

“I think you’d make any boy, _your age_ , happy.”

Peter closed his book, resting it in his lap. “Yeah? What about when I start crapping myself? Or when I pass out suddenly mid-sentence? Or puke after I’ve had chemo? Still think some boy my age, who doesn’t understand a lick of medicine would be happy with me?” 

Steve’s heart squeezed. He’d been so focused on himself and Bucky, that he’d projected his worries onto Peter. He’d assumed that any boy their age would do, but that wasn’t the case. They needed people who really understood their conditions. _‘I understand Bucky’s condition…’_ It wasn’t easy, living with a terminal disease, or one that could become terminal. Many people couldn’t take that kind of stress, knowing that one day their lover was there and the next they could just…slip away. 

“Bucky?” Steve asked. “Barton? Is he gay?” 

Peter laughed. “You know, it was a crazy random happenstance that Bucky and I ended up gay in this ward. I think we’re the only ones. Bucky isn’t into me. We’ve had that conversation.” Peter reached for his water cup. His hands were shaking slightly. 

“Why not? Smart, good-looking, funny…What’s not to like?” 

Peter deadpanned at Steve. “I’m not you, Steve. Bucky has only ever had eyes for you.” 

“He hardly knows me!” 

Peter laughed. “You forget…we have nothing better to do than sit around and talk about doctors and how hot your ass looks in a pair of scrubs, which…navy blue…nice choice today, Steve.” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, glaring lightly at Peter. “You’re a little shit.” 

“Heck yeah!” 

“Well, I hardly know him,” Steve countered, pulling out a sleeve to take Peter’s blood pressure. 

Peter offered out his arm, sighing. “I hate these things. They make me feel my pulse in my brain.” 

“Oh cry me a river,” Steve retorted, smiling. 

“You know, Bucky and I were roommates after his lung surgery. He couldn’t talk much, but you’d come in to check on me and he was there.” 

“I remember,” Steve said, watching the monitor on the sleeve calculate Peter’s blood pressure. Though, he’d never known why Bucky didn’t talk much, he’d just assumed the boy was shy back then. Steve had been more worried about Peter during that time. Things got really rough for Peter for awhile. They weren’t sure he wouldn't survive the  month, but he did… A fact Steve was very proud of. 

“Y’know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were actually considering dating your underaged patient,” Peter said, his eyes glistening with mischief. 

Steve’s face heated up. “I-I’m not! I’m just…startled? Flattered? I dunno.” He released the sleeve, jotting down the numbers on Peter’s chart at the foot of his bed. 

Peter laughed. “Ah, the denial stage. I’ve seen enough TV dramas to know this is just a small bump in the road. You’ll fall in love with him eventually.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “You watch too much TV.”

“I’ve got leukemia. What else am I gonna do all day when I finish reading all my anatomy books?” 

Steve dropped the chart back into its bin. “Get a hobby. Learn to sew or something.” Steve walked to the door, shaking his head in disbelief. He felt better…but it hadn’t resolved the situation; it only had made it worse. Peter was right. Steve was rationalizing, attempting to see reason to engage further or make excuses as to why this was suddenly okay. He’d use sentences that would, in theory, push Bucky away, but Peter saw through it. Peter was way smarter than that, and he wasn’t letting Steve off the hook easily. 

“Hey Steve?” Peter called; his voice void of all its surety and playful banter from before.

Steve turned back around, cocking a brow. 

“Do you think…you could eat lunch with me today?” 

Steve offered a wide, toothy grin. “Of course, buddy.” 

Peter settled back into his bed, opening up his biology book once more. Steve watched him try to push up his bandana again, but once more, it slipped right back into place. Steve walked back to Peter, untying the knot of the bandana and readjusting it higher atop Peter's bald head. Peter touched the bandana, smiling his thanks to Steve before looking back into his book.

"See you, pal," Steve said. He left the room feeling a tiny bit better, but a million times worse. 

He’d spent the rest of the morning checking in on consults, infants and calling several parents and detailing lab results. It was nice, just throwing himself into his job. He didn’t have much time to dwell on Bucky. Still, each time he’d pass that closed door…he’d linger just a bit too long. He wanted to go in. He wanted to see the boy, but he was terrified to. Bucky knew now. Bucky knew that he could kiss Steve and Steve was terrified of how much farther Bucky wanted this to go. They couldn’t be together-together! It was illegal… Bucky needed all the positive energy and hope and prayer that could be mustered. Steve would only give him stress. They’d worry about being discovered. They’d worry about Bucky’s illness. Bucky would lament over his future. Steve had even seen enough TV dramas about this very situation. He’d seen _Grey’s Anatomy_! Quite frankly, he loved _Grey’s Anatomy_. Unfortunately he was several seasons behind and saw the biggest spoiler of them all on Facebook of all places, but… 

_‘I’m deflecting…’_

Steve sat at the nurses’ station, tapping a pencil against the desk over and over and over till Sharon’s hand came down on his. She glared at him, shaking her head ever so slightly. “Some of us are trying to work?” she said softly.

Steve sighed, scratching at his beard. “I’m sorry.” 

“Have you checked on Barnes yet?” Sharon asked. “He’s asked about you several times already today.” 

Steve’s heart felt like it was being pierced with a frosted arrow. The cold seared into his heart, spreading out like frozen tendrils, twisting and wrapping themselves against his bones, his stomach, his toes. “N-no not yet. I’ve been busy with calling families.” 

Sharon nodded. “Yeah, well, go see him please. Every time a nurse goes in, he asks for you.” 

Steve furrowed his brow. He felt nauseous. Of course Bucky would want to see him. It was to be expected. Bucky had shared his first kiss with Steve. There was a connection Steve wished there wouldn’t be. If yesterday was a sample of Bucky’s bull-headed personality, Steve would be an idiot if he thought he could casually make this issue go away. He’d have to meet the bull head on. He’d have to actively do something about it. He couldn’t ignore a patient simply because things were complicated. That was only hurting Bucky as well… Steve was a healer, not the opposite.

Steve stood up, dragging his feet toward room 415. He felt the icy tendrils that had set into his body pull at his core as they attempted to drag him down into the floor, but he kept walking. Steve checked his watch. Peter would be getting his lunch served in about a half hour. Steve had a half hour… He didn’t need that long. He could do this in about ten minutes and just…walk out. He could be this boy’s doctor. He was this boy’s doctor. 

Steve opened the door. 

Bucky’s face instantly beamed into a bright smile as his blue-eyes sparkled against the dull light that came in from the windows as the rain continued to fall. He was sitting atop his bed, his video game controller in his hand but he’d paused his game immediately. “I’ve been wonderin' when you’d come in.” He jumped from the bed. 

Steve kept the door open. 

Bucky stopped, looking from the door to Steve, an unsaid question casting over his face. He ran his fingers though his disheveled brown hair. “So Doc…I went to sleep, like you wanted.” 

Steve walked past Bucky, offering a tight smile. His heart was slamming up into his throat. “How’re you feeling today?” he asked. 

Bucky furrowed his brow, staring at the door, but then walked away from it, slipping back atop his bed. His toes reached the floor as he sat on it sideways. “It itches. Where the needle went in. Throat’s scratchy.” 

“Let’s take a look huh?” Steve reached over the monitor to grab a pair of white gloves. 

“Shouldn’t we close the door?” Bucky asked, pointing his thumb over at the gaping entrance. 

Steve looked up, shrugging. _‘If I close the door…I’ll kiss you again…’_ “No, it should be fine. I don’t need to remove your gown entirely.” 

Bucky pouted, his brow furrowing heavier against his eyes. His legs were shaking in agitation. 

Steve stood before Bucky, slipping the gown down over his shoulders and spreading it open so he could see the bandage. His cock twitched. _‘No. No don’t you dare. He’s a fucking child, don’t you dare.’_  

He carefully pulled the bandage off, revealing a small, bruised, circular wound. “It’s a little inflamed. I’ll put you on some amoxicillin. Should help prevent any infection.” Steve then moved his hands up to Bucky’s neck, checking for any swollen lymph nodes. They were a bit enlarged, but Steve wasn’t too alarmed right now. He needed those lab results though...

“Steve,” Bucky whispered. 

Steve stood up straight, his eyes pleading with Bucky to not do this. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t ready. He had to be stronger than this. He had to be this boy’s protector, his doctor…his hope.

 _‘But you’re taking it away from him…’_  

Steve pulled Bucky’s gown back up and over his shoulders, watching as his hands trembled. Bucky tried to grab at one of his hands, but he pulled away, like he’d burn him. The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost enough to send Steve back on every bit of resolve he’d tried to build up. Bucky was breaking. Steve was watching him break. He saw the life in Bucky’s eyes crack and begin to drop to the floor, shattering like glass. “The door’s open, Bucky,” Steve said quietly. “We can’t talk about this.” 

“So close it?” Bucky whispered. “Please, Steve.” 

Steve swallowed hard. He’d have to be honest with Bucky. Bucky deserved that much. It wasn’t fair to ignore this. Bucky clearly was enamored with Steve from what Peter had said and from Bucky's obvious actions. He was also strong enough to let this be Steve’s choice. Bucky wasn’t racing for the door. He wasn’t deciding this for Steve. He was letting Steve decide. That spoke volumes to Steve. That spoke of maturity. 

Steve walked over to the door; he looked out into the hall. A woman was on her phone and a nurse was wheeling a patient down the hall. Otherwise, no one would notice if Steve suddenly…vanished for a bit. Sharon had even said that Bucky was asking for Steve. He could lie and say Bucky had been asking him tons of questions, or that he’d had a moment where he just needed to vent to Steve. It wasn’t unheard of for patients to lay out their fears on their doctors. It wasn’t a sin for Steve to want to be a good doctor…

He closed the door. 

Bucky offered the smallest hint of a smile as he looked over his shoulder, his stormy-blue gaze following Steve as he walked back over, sitting next to Bucky atop the bed. This was fine. This was innocent. If someone opened the door, this was okay… They were just having a consultation. Steve could worm his way out of this if someone opened the door… 

Bucky grabbed his hand. Steve’s heart lurched into his mouth. He tensed, but allowed Bucky to lace their fingers together. “You okay?” Bucky asked hoarsely. He’d said his throat was scratchy. Perhaps the dry air of the hospital was bothering him? 

Steve inhaled deeply through his nose, staring at the rain that pattered against the window. “Rough night.” 

“Because of me?” Bucky asked softer. His chin ducked, like he was waiting for a punch that would never come. 

Steve rolled in his lips, pressing them together roughly before allowing his face to relax. “Yes.” 

“Shit, Steve,” Bucky sighed. “M’sorry. I just…I just wanted to know what it was like.” 

“You’re holding my hand,” Steve said evenly. “You’re not just interested in a kiss.” 

Bucky pulled his hand away. His face fell, as if he’d been scolded for knocking over a vase. Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach. He wasn’t making this easy. He was hurting Bucky. This wasn’t what he was supposed to do. Hell, he shouldn’t have done this in the first place, but here he was! He’d done this. He’d made this bed. He’d created this demon. He couldn’t just…cast it aside like it didn’t matter. It was hurting Bucky. Steve took an oath. Heal…not hurt.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Buck,” Steve said, trying his hardest to keep his voice even, yet friendly. “I think we should talk about this. About what you’re really wanting from me.” 

Bucky bit the side of his lip, dragging his teeth along it lightly. Steve licked his lips. He couldn’t deny how beautiful this boy was; how even his subconscious movements were alluring. “What…what I want?” Bucky asked. He furrowed his brow, staring down at his bare toes. He pressed one foot into the other, most likely as a way to stall his answer. 

Steve waited patiently. 

“I want…to live,” Bucky responded. He was still staring at his toes. “I want to know what it feels like to be loved. To have someone. I don’t wanna disappear.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. A lot of children felt this way. Their biggest concern was never leaving anything behind. They had no children of their own to continue their legacy, they had no cars, homes, dogs, or any form of concrete work that they could look back on and appreciate before they died. They felt like wasted space, just a blip on a map until one day it wasn’t there. Bucky didn’t want to leave behind nothing. He wanted something concrete. 

“Your family loves you,” Steve said tightly. 

Bucky let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “No. Not really. They care, yeah, but…I’m gonna die before they really accept me.” 

“Why’re you so sure you’re gonna die?” Steve asked, grabbing Bucky’s chin and turning him gently so their eyes locked. “You’re disease isn’t inherently terminal.”  _'It just lets other diseases kill him...'_

Bucky swallowed, his eyes darting ever so slightly as he looked back and forth between Steve’s eyes. “I get sick all the time. I get infections all the time. Most kids scrape up their knees and they walk it off. I have to go to the hospital. My disease opens me up to diseases that _can_ and will kill me. It’s just a waiting game. I’m just a time bomb.”

“Your parents do love you,” Steve said softer, trying his best to ignore the bitter words that Bucky spoke. Most kids who contracted cancer or heart disease, they had certainty. They were going to die. There was a chance they wouldn’t, but they knew, always in the back of their minds…they had an end, whether it be from cancer or from something else. It almost made Bucky’s condition worse. He had no idea. His disease plagued children, infecting them with septicemia, bowl infections, heart disease, cancer, pneumonia, and countless other illnesses or diseases that would ravage their bodies like plague till they were so full of illnesses that they’d just…shut down from the weight of it all. Bucky had nothing but uncertainty to look forward to. Bucky knew he had a twenty percent chance at living past twenty-five, and even then…nothing would cure him. He could live into his fifties and still die from this disease. There was no escape. Just hope. …Just hope…

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but Steve had already closed in on him, enveloping Bucky’s lips with his own. He brought his hand up, grabbing at the short strands of Bucky’s hair and locking him in place as he slid his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. 

Bucky yelped in surprise, but he relaxed into the kiss, letting Steve lead. His fingers snaked into Steve’s lab coat and he wrapped his fingers into the material, pulling Steve as close as he could. Steve’s heart slammed against his rib cage, spilling with excitement and lamenting with anguish. He’d doomed them both. It was his choice. He’d done this. But he couldn’t let Bucky think he wasn’t cared for or that he’d just…cease to exist. Steve wouldn’t let him give up. If this is what it took, then Steve would do it. He’d hate himself every day for lying to his friends, his colleagues, Bucky’s family, but he’d do it. He’d shower Bucky with so much positive energy and adoration that perhaps Bucky would be the first miracle case of his disease. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? If only things worked out that way… but they never did. They never would. 

Steve broke the kiss, licking his lips to savor Bucky’s taste. Bucky’s eyes were round and there was so much apprehension and confusion that Steve almost whined from the pain he saw. “You’re not gonna die, Buck,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips. “I won’t let you.” 

Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes. He pulled Steve against him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and pulled him so tightly that Steve had to gasp for air. Steve slid his arms around Bucky, gliding his fingers through the boy’s hair. He stared at the picture of a white dragon and two children hugging it atop the bed. Bucky was a child. Steve was an adult. Steve needed Bucky to become an adult too. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d chosen this. He wouldn’t stop it now. He couldn’t. 

“Thank you, Steve,” Bucky whispered. He laughed softly. “I actually almost believe you.” 

Steve’s heart crumbled, but he continued to hold onto Bucky. He wouldn’t let go. He’d prove to Bucky this. He’d prove that Bucky wouldn’t die. He’d do anything and everything possible to keep this boy alive. He’d do anything and everything to keep Peter Parker alive. They deserved more than this. 

Bucky pulled back, pulling his legs onto the bed and against his chest. He wrapped his long arms around his legs, hooking his fingers together. “So…you know what I want?” 

Steve nodded. “I think so.” 

Bucky scanned Steve’s body, his blue eyes darting up and down. “I want you to be mine.” 

“I know.” 

“And you’ll do that?” 

Steve sighed heavily. He’d made this bed. He’d created this monster. “Yes.”

Bucky smiled brightly, flashing his teeth as he rocked from side to side in glee. “Will you spend more time with me?” 

Steve looked to the door. Any second someone could just…barge in. Any second and this could all be taken away from Bucky. Steve had to be so sure that he could protect them. If someone found out…if anyone found out… He’d lose everything and Bucky would lose him. 

“How ‘bout this,” Steve said, offering a charming smile. “I go eat lunch with Parker, and then I come back and play some video games with you. That good?” 

Bucky nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds amazing.”

Steve stood up, kissing Bucky briefly atop the head. “I gotta go do some rounds real fast. Prepare to be annihilated though. I’m a pretty good Call of Duty shot.” 

Bucky laughed, scratching at the underside of his chin. “Oh I’m sure. Prepare to eat your words, Doc.” 

Steve waved lightly before returning to the hall. Each person he saw, he felt they knew. Their smiles, their simple, “Hello, Dr. Rogers, how are you today?” Each one he’d answered with an awkward briskness. Perhaps they’d find him unkind or out of sorts, but what if they knew? What if they were just trying to make him feel comfortable before…? 

 _‘I’m being so unreasonable.’_  

Steve walked up to the nurses’ station, grabbing a chart and paging through as he scanned the few rounds he had before lunch. He had ten minutes… He was going to piss some parents off today… 

* * *

 

Bucky felt like he’d been thrown into an emotional roller coaster. Steve had been so cautious at first. Bucky was sure he was going to say what they’d done could never happen again. Bucky was sure his heart was going to be thrown into a meat-grinder before it even had a chance to beat in tune with another person’s. He wasn’t sure what happened or what he said that made Steve think otherwise, but they were going to do this. Steve was going to be Bucky’s. Bucky smiled as he twirled his pasta around his fork. He knew Steve was in with Peter right now. He wondered what they were talking about. Were they talking about him? Steve had asked Bucky not to tell Peter; not like Bucky had a chance. He hadn’t seen Peter since the last time he was checked into the hospital. He supposed he could walk over there now, since his chest was feeling better, but he knew Steve was in there now. He missed Peter though. They weren’t in the same room anymore because Bucky’s parents blamed Peter for Bucky being gay. 

If anyone should be blamed, it was Steve. He walked into the hospital one day, all bearded, with sparkling blue eyes and that smile… If Steve ever had children, he’d be the best dad ever. Bucky could just see it with how he respected his patients and how he behaved with them. He was practically a kid himself, till he switched that doctor mode back up. He’d almost done it with Bucky, but then didn’t… Bucky still didn’t know how that happened. He’d almost lost Steve, but he didn’t. It hurt Bucky’s brain to think too much on it. 

Bucky took another bite. He had no appetite, but he knew Steve would worry. The thought warmed Bucky’s stomach, caressing his insides with gentle waves of pleasure. He liked the idea of Steve worrying over him, and not just as a doctor, but as a lover. They were lovers now, right? Lovers kissed and spent time together. Bucky only knew what he’d seen in the movies. Being home schooled and in the hospital most of the time, he wasn’t one for real-life experience. But that’s what the movies had, kissing and spending time together and… 

Oh gosh, Bucky’s eyes rounded as he dropped his fork. Sex… Would they have sex? When would they have sex? Bucky didn’t know how to have sex! He grabbed his chest, feeling his heart thrumming violently. He coughed a few times. 

The thoughts trickled away as he looked down at his hand. He’d coughed up wet, green phlegm. _‘No…no, no, no, no…’_ Jumping from the bed, Bucky ran into the bathroom. He dropped his gown, standing there in just his boxers as he looked into the mirror. He looked down at his wound, it was purple and green. Was it infected? Was he infected? He washed his hands, hearing his heart pulsate in his ears. When were his labs coming back? He needed to know! He needed to know if he was still sick! 

Someone knocked at the door. Bucky pulled up his gown. Sharon came in, holding a bottle of some form of medication. Bucky guessed it was the script Steve had written for him. “Medication time!” she chimed. 

Bucky’s face was tight as he padded back into his room. He sat on the bed, watching Sharon pop out one pill and grab him his water cup. “Is it normal for me to have phlegm after that procedure?” 

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. “You’re coughing up phlegm?” 

Bucky nodded. “Just once. My throat’s been scratchy all day though.” 

Sharon nodded, handing him the pill and water. “This may help clear it up. We’re still waiting to see if your pericardium had an infection. That could also be it.” 

“And if the peri-thing was infected?” Bucky asked before he swallowed the pill down. 

“Then we treat it. You’ll be fine.” 

There it was again. The “you’ll be fine…” They had no idea. Bucky knew better. Bucky knew he wouldn’t be fine. It was just a matter of time… 

“Dr. Rogers see you?” Sharon asked as she sat on the rolling chair. 

“Yeah. He’s coming back to play video games with me later.” Bucky’s face heated up. Was that okay? Was that allowed to be known? Oh shit, he couldn’t go a single day without messing something up somehow! 

Sharon laughed. “That’s nice of him.” She took out a thermometer and held it in front of his mouth. Bucky opened his mouth and held the thermometer under his tongue. There was nothing wrong with a physician spending time with his patients. Bucky didn’t let anything slip. Everything was okay. Sharon didn’t suspect anything. Steve was safe. 

Bucky sighed through his nose, watching the numbers on his thermometer rise. Sharon’s brow furrowed. She held her hand near Bucky’s face, as if it was taking too long to read Bucky’s temperature. Once it beeped, she snatched it, reading it properly. “You’ve got a fever.” 

Bucky’s heart sank. What would it be this time? Pneumonia? Bronchitis? Cancer? He couldn’t die just yet. He barely had any time with Steve. It couldn’t be the end yet! 

“I’ll page Dr. Rogers. He may need to expedite your lab results.” 

Bucky nodded, swallowing hard. His fingers were trembling. A cough was the first step, then a fever and then Bucky would be over the toilet, spilling out his guts and crying and praying that whatever he had would go away before he’d die from it. He prayed it wasn’t an evolving bacterial strand. Those were certain to kill him! Or the flu! The flu almost killed him when he was a baby. They were so sure he wouldn’t live past infancy. _‘Steve says you’re a fighter. Just fight for Steve…Don’t die…don’t die yet!’_  

Sharon had left the room before Bucky had even realized it. He sat there, rocking back and forth atop his bed, staring at the rain. _‘Please be nothing, please be nothing, please be nothing…’_  

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be alone right now. But he was sick. He couldn’t see Peter, because he’d just get him sick. He couldn’t leave the room. He was trapped. He was trapped and he was alone! His vision blurred as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He grabbed the guardrail on the bed, trembling. He was alone. He was going to die alone. What if he died before he even got to know what it felt like to be held by Steve at night, or to fling food at him or… 

 _‘Or make love with him…’_  

Bucky coughed again. He looked at his hands anxiously; nothing. It’d been a dry cough. Relief flooded through Bucky, like a dam bursting and overflowing. Maybe the medication would work. Maybe…he would be fine? 

Someone knocked at the door. He turned, seeing Steve enter the room, still holding a half-eaten apple. Bucky watched as he closed the door. Before Steve had officially even walked into the room, Bucky was up, he ran into Steve, wrapping his arms around him and burring his face into Steve’s navy blue scrubs. “I’m not infected am I? I coughed and there was phlegm and I’ve gotta fever! I’m not dyin’ am I?” 

Steve’s eyes rounded. He pushed Bucky back gently, but he still kept one hand firmly against Bucky’s shoulder. “We expedited your tests. We’ll know soon. I’ll up your dosage of amoxicillin. It should help.” 

“What if it doesn’t?” Bucky whined. “What if I get the flu or somethin’?” 

Steve’s fingers trailed along Bucky’s arm to his fingers where he laced them into Bucky’s and pulled him back over to the bed. “Then I’ll treat it. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” 

Bucky knew from how calm Steve was being that he was being slightly over-dramatic. Every time he got a cold or a fever, his family always prepared for the worst. They always prepared for his death. It’d just become second nature to Bucky. “D’you still wanna play with me?” 

Steve’s brows shot into his hairline. Bucky cocked a brow as he pointed at his PS4. “Video games?” 

Steve laughed, his shoulders slumping in relaxation. “Oh! Yeah, yeah!” 

Bucky coughed a few times before handing a controller over to Steve and booted up the PS4. The loading screen came up and Bucky followed the prompts for multiplayer. “I’m going to beat you,” he stated flatly, suppressing his worries about his cough. 

“When did you start coughing?” Steve asked, ignoring the taunt.

“Bout an hour after you left.” 

“So, it just started?”

“Yup,” Bucky responded flatly. “I told Sharon the second I saw phlegm.” 

Steve put his controller down, pressing pause. “Pull your gown down.” 

Bucky pulled his arms out of the gown, sliding it down and around his waist. Steve stood in front of him, putting gloves on. “Why’re you puttin’ those on?” 

“I’m a doctor?” Steve said, rather uncertainly. 

“I mean, we’re…kissing? So, why bother?” 

Steve sighed. He put the gloves down. “Will this make you feel more comfortable?” 

Bucky smiled, feeling his stomach tickle with that warming butterfly sensation. “Mhm.” 

Steve put on his stethoscope, bringing the cold, circular bottom to Bucky’s chest and down and around his lungs. “Breathe in.” 

Bucky breathed in. He watched as Steve hunched over, furrowing his brow with that little dimple between his brows. Bucky looked down, watching as Steve’s bare hand was against his exposed shoulder and the other was gliding the stethoscope around. Bucky turned his head, pressing a soft kiss against Steve’s knuckles. He knew Steve was uncomfortable about their…relationship? Did they officially have a relationship? But Bucky couldn’t help it. He’d longed to be with Steve for so long that it was like a wildfire igniting inside. He had an urgency to know Steve. If he died a moment before he really got to know him… Everything would have been pointless. 

Steve laughed, bringing Bucky’s thoughts back as the boy pulled his lips away from Steve’s knuckles. “Breathe in deeper this time; big as you can.” 

Bucky did as instructed, but a tickle rose in the back of his throat and he coughed it out.

“Nnn,” Steve mused. “It’s mostly dry. You’ve got a bit of a raspy sound when you inhale, but I think it could be the pericardium fluids coming back.” 

“They’re coming back?” Bucky felt adrenaline hit his heart as his mind instantly went to the worst case scenarios. 

“We drained a lot out. It’s possible you’re a little dry in there now, so this is how the body responds to it. We’re keeping an eye on you. Don’t worry too much.” Steve put his stethoscope around the back of his neck. 

Bucky saw how close Steve was. He could reach out and… 

Bucky pulled Steve closer to him, wrapping his legs around him. Steve’s eyes widened as he had to put his hands down on Bucky’s shoulders to keep his balance. “Bucky!” he gasped. 

Bucky smiled shyly. “M’sorry. I wanted to know what it was like.” 

Steve didn’t move back, despite having a look of strained uncertainty envelop his features. “Don’t you think you’re moving a bit too fast?” 

Bucky instantly released Steve, feeling his cheeks heat up from embarrassment. “We weren’t fuckin’ or anything. Jesus.” Bucky turned toward the TV again, grabbing his controller. “Press play, please?” 

“Bucky…” Steve’s voice was patronizing. Bucky hated when people talked down to him. So what if he was a sick teenager? It didn’t give people the right to treat him differently or talk down to him. Steve was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be Bucky’s savior. He was supposed to be the only one that understood him. “It’s not that I didn’t…like it. It’s just…you don’t really know me. We should take time to learn about each other.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re thirty-one, your favorite color is blue, you have a dog named Cap and you went to NYU School of Medicine. Can we just play the game now?” 

“And you’re sixteen, you’ve got HIGM, you spend way too much time talking to Peter Parker about me and I’ve no idea if you have a dog… so let’s talk about that. Do you?” 

“Do what?” Bucky asked; his brow furrowing as he slumped his neck. 

Steve sat on the bed next to Bucky. He kicked his shoes off and sat cross-legged. “Do you have a dog?” 

“No. Mom thought a dog could get me sick.” 

“Dogs don’t usually get people sick,” Steve answered. “You’ve seen the service dogs around here, right?” 

Bucky put his controller down. He turned, facing Steve fully now with his back up against the pillows. “No. I thought they’d get me sick…” 

Steve laughed. “You’re mom’s sadly misinformed you. You should see them next time.” 

“I don’t need no dog cheerin’ me up.” Bucky felt like Steve was looking down on him. He felt stupid for not knowing a dog couldn’t get him ill. Steve was so much smarter than Bucky. He was so much older and had experienced so much life. Bucky wanted that. He wanted to know Steve’s stories. He wanted to know what it was like not having to worry about a cough or a fever. He wanted to know Steve outside the hospital walls. “Tell me something you haven’t told Peter.” 

Steve leaned back on his hands, licking at his lips in thought. “Like what?” 

Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. An embarrassing story?” 

Steve laughed. “Oh where to begin. I think I amass about six of those a day.” 

“One that doesn’t involve the hospital?” 

“When I was in high school, we walked the hallways like people drive cars. So you’re on the right side, left yields and right turns are usually safe unless someone’s coming. I was a dumb fourteen-year-old who’d been too sick to go to grade school so-” 

“You were sick?” Bucky asked as he interrupted Steve’s story. His mouth parted softly as his breathing stilled, as if he breathed too loud, he’d never hear the answer. His eyes rounded as he marveled at the man before him. He’d never known… 

Steve laughed softly, scratching his nose. “Uh, yeah. I’ve got asthma. When I was littler, I had a really crappy immune system, kind of like you.” 

Bucky smiled, feeling his tear ducts prick as salty tears welled in them. “Did you have HIGM?” 

Steve shook his head. “N-no. I just have bad genetics. I counteract my immune system with a really strict diet and a lot of exercise. I shot up like a bean stalk in high school so it got easier for me to fill out. I think I’m the only doctor here who gets at least six different vaccinations a year during flu season.”

Bucky’s heart warmed. Steve knew what this was like. Steve did understand. “Were you ever hospitalized?” 

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah. It got absurd for awhile. Every winter and I’d basically just pack my bags and wait to get pneumonia or something. It’s why I became a physician.” 

Bucky laughed, releasing the pent-up anxiety and anger he’d been building. Steve really did understand. If Steve pulled the, “It’s going to be fine,” line, Bucky could actually believe him. Steve had actually been in Bucky’s shoes once… “Did they serve the green jell-o back then too?” 

Steve rolled his eyes so hard Bucky wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his balance. “Back then? Look sonny, in my day, we had to walk up hill both ways just to get our green jell-o. And we _liked_ it.” 

Bucky laughed; full and loud. He’d laughed so hard, he’d erupted in a fit of coughing. It had started dry, but he’d heard the wet, gurgling sound as the phlegm built up, and then that nauseous feeling when it went up into his mouth. He leapt from the bed and went into the bathroom to spit it into the toilet. He stood there, watching it swirl like a lurking swamp monster against the toilet water. 

“Green?” Steve asked with a solo brow cocked. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” Bucky stated through a sarcastic smile. 

“If it’s green, there’s a chance you have a small infection. If it’s green and red, we’ve got a serious problem. So do me the favor of telling me, so I don’t have to go sticking my face into your toilet. I can make this really embarrassing you.” Steve’s eyes were shimmering with the challenge. “I can order fecal tests…”

“Oh my _fucking_ God! It’s green! Jesus Christ, Steve! You’re so fucked up!” Bucky flushed the toilet. 

“Language!” Steve chastised, but his smile indicated his words were playful. “Wash your hands, please.” 

“Yes, _Mother_ ,” Bucky grumbled. Steve walked back over to the bed. Bucky could hear the bed groan softly as his weight pushed against it. Bucky smiled a soft, crooked smile. Steve Rogers…medical doctor, pediatrician; Brooklyn’s most eligible bachelor… He was here with Bucky. It didn’t matter how sick Bucky got or how disgusting his symptoms could become. Steve didn’t care. Steve was a doctor. This was his job. He’d been sick before too… He understood everything. Bucky’s feet tingled in excitement. He thought he knew Dr. Steve Rogers, but that had just been the first layer. Steve was so much more than just a good doctor with a great smile. He was a real, living, breathing person and he’d elected to find some kind of peace within Bucky. Bucky just wanted to devour it all and soak up as much of Steve as he could before… 

 _‘I’m gonna die…’_  

Bucky came back to the bed, crawling into it and pushing his head against Steve’s chest. “Steve,” he groaned out. 

Steve laughed, petting Bucky’s head. “You’re the weirdest kid, I swear!” he exclaimed. “What?” 

“What was the scariest moment you ever had, when you were in the hospital?” Bucky sat back, plopping his head on the pillows. He put his feet up on Steve’s lap. 

Steve looked down at Bucky’s feet. He gently grabbed his toes, bending them softly back and forth. “I had a really bad asthma attack. After that, I couldn’t stop coughing.” Steve’s fingers started tracing the veins around Bucky’s ankle. “I’d start wheezing and gasping all the time. I could just be sitting there and my lungs would just close up. I was in the hospital for about three weeks while the doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with me. I honestly thought I was going to die from their lack of results.”

“They didn’t know what was wrong with you?” 

Steve shrugged. “They figured it out eventually. I had an extreme allergic reaction to a type of mold present in my mom’s house. I’d managed to get some particles into my repertory system. The asthma made it worse. But I honestly thought I was gonna die. But I didn’t. You won’t either. I’ll test you for allergies before I stay focused on a known diagnosis. Biggest mistake I’ve ever seen a doctor make, and that was my case.” 

“They thought it was your asthma?” 

Steve nodded. He slid his fingers over the arch of Bucky’s foot. Bucky fought so hard not to kick. It ticked, but he liked that Steve was just casually exploring his foot. It made him feel closer to Steve; like he was really that shield Bucky had imagined him being; like they were really together. “Doctors make mistakes. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes people die. I won’t make that mistake on you.” 

The weight of Steve’s gaze made Bucky feel slightly uncomfortable. There was so much determination in those eyes; it was weighing the blue hues down and searing into the lines around Steve’s eyes, spreading like wildfire till his whole body was practically radiating with it.

“Is it ‘cause you think I’m cute?” Bucky teased, trying to lighten the moment. 

“No,” Steve answered flatly. “It’s because you’re as stubborn as me, and I’m proving you wrong. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for the day I can tell you I told you so.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “And here I thought we were gonna have a moment.” 

Steve huffed, a shit-eating smirk plastered on his face. He moved Bucky’s feet from his lap, standing up and giving Bucky a quick peck on the cheek. “I need to check on my other patients.” 

Bucky whined. “We didn’t even play together yet!” 

Steve looked over to the TV; it was still paused. “It’ll have to wait. I’m sorry, Buck.” 

“Can you eat dinner with me?” Bucky asked, feeling his throat tickle. He didn’t want to cough. He tried clearing his throat, but when that didn’t work, he tried coughing quietly into his mouth. Steve’s eyes narrowed. 

“I also have to check on _someone’s_ lab results.” 

“Dinner?” Bucky asked again. Bucky hated that Steve couldn’t just stay. He understood, but he still hated it. Every moment that Steve wasn’t there was another moment Bucky could never get back. Bucky was sure he only had so many more moments to give before something changed in his system. When Steve was around, Bucky wasn’t so scared. The second Steve left… Bucky would be all alone again. He could start hacking up a lung and no one would be there till he floundered for the emergency button or Sharon came in. So much could happen in a single moment. Bucky just wanted to share all the rest of his moments with Steve. 

“As long as you share that _wonderful_ jell-o,” Steve answered, offering a soft, crooked smile. 

“Oh believe me, you can eat all of it.” 

“You’re gonna be fine, Buck,” Steve said, as if he was reading Bucky’s thoughts. “Trust me.”

Bucky swallowed, feeling his bottom lip jut out a bit. “I do,” he replied softly. He watched Steve leave, closing the door softly behind him. Bucky looked at his video game console. He wasn’t unhappy about his time with Steve. He’d learned so much in what he felt like was the shortest amount of time. 

Steve had been in the hospital, and not just as a doctor, but as a patient. Bucky was pretty sure that most of the staff often forgot how lonely patients could feel, or how hopeless they could become. He was sure as they worked day in and day out, they got less and less invested and more and more jaded, just like their patients. Maybe that’s why Steve was like a ray of sunlight after a storm. He never got jaded. He never got curt or apathetic toward his patients. Steve had been a patient. He understood what it felt like to be the one in the bed instead of the other way around. Bucky would have never guessed a man with such broad shoulders and _muscles_ could have been a sick, small kid once. A sick, small kid like Bucky… 

* * *

 

Steve spun around in his chair, watching as the colors on the walls smeared before him as his eyes fought to focus on something. He’d spun about twelve more times before a hand came down on his chair, stopping him abruptly. 

“If you don’t quit that, I’ll knock this kid’s results into an incinerator! You know I’ve got one of those right?” 

“Sorry, Tony,” Steve replied, blinking a few times as dizziness set in. 

Tony glared at him for a moment longer before going back to the microscope he was hovered over. Tony was an MD, PhD. He was also the head of cardiovascular research. He wasn’t one for seeing patients, but he liked doing the behind-the-scenes work and was pretty sure if the hospital gave him a bit more funding he could cure at least two pediatric heart diseases. Steve honestly didn’t put it past him. 

“So, wanna remind me again why I’m doing this for you? Instead of your little lab guys?” Tony looked up, putting his thick-rimmed glasses on as he moved over to a small refrigerator on one of the silver tables and pulled something out. “Oh that’s right…because your lab guys aren’t fast enough. I’m going as fast as I can! Your spinning makes me…freak out.” He flailed his hands for emphasis. 

Steve laughed. “Freak out? Really, Stark?” Steve turned around in the chair, straddling its metal spine. “Anything yet?” 

“Oh it’s definitely an infection.” 

“What? That’s all I needed to know!” Steve said, standing up. 

“You don’t wanna know why? Or how? Or how long?” 

Steve furrowed his brow. Bucky had an infection near his heart. If it got _into_ his heart…if it got _into_ his bloodstream… _‘Don’t let him die, Rogers.’_ “Just keep running tests on it.” 

“You should give me some blood from this kid. Urine sample too. Actually while you’re at it you should probably also give me a fe-” 

“Tony!” Steve warned, glaring at him. “This kid is terrified. If I make him do a thousand different tests he’s going to be the one freaking out.” 

“Okay…” Tony said, taking off his glasses. “I’ll look and see what bacteria we’ve got floating around in here and cross-reference it with what we know causes pericarditis. But a urine sample would really go a long way…” 

Steve clenched his jaw. The good news was− they were aware there was an issue. The bad news was that pericarditis was caused by other ailments within the body. Bucky could be suffering from an infection elsewhere and have no idea because he’d been so focused on his heart. Tony wasn’t wrong for wanting to run multiple other tests, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to worry Bucky. It made his tongue go dry. He wouldn’t let Bucky slip into hopelessness. He’d just detail him one step at a time. He’d focus on the cure more than the symptom. Pericarditis was a symptom. They just had to figure out what was causing it.

“What about running a CT scan on his abdomen?” Tony asked as he looked down into the microscope again. 

“I can probably do that,” Steve answered, pinching his nose. He’d really hoped he could go back to tell Bucky his heart was clean. He was so sure his cough was a symptom of the fluids just returning back to normal. Steve pressed his fingers into the cool, metal table below him. He felt his back muscles clench as he thought on how he’d tell Bucky. There was no way that boy was going to react with anything but desperation and fear. A simple cut on Bucky’s face and he’d be buried under his blankets with a bottle of Neosporin and on a slew of antibiotics. Steve groaned. 

“You okay over there?” Tony asked. He didn’t look up from the microscope. 

“I just wanted to give this kid good news,” Steve answered honestly. 

“Give him good news then. Tell him you’ve identified the problem.” 

“We haven’t identified the problem, Tony,” Steve spat. “We’ve just identified there _is_ a problem.” 

Tony sat up, chewing on his gum lightly. It was enough to be obnoxious to Steve, but he didn’t say anything. Tony was an eccentric guy. He liked doing things a certain way, and since Steve had bothered him to do this favor for him; he’d take loud gum-chewing in stride. “That’s the good news. You can up his doses of amoxicillin and tell him he needs to pee in a cup!” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Just…please page me when you find something.” 

“Pfft, no, I thought I’d just sit on my hands and contemplate its existence.” Tony went back to the microscope. “Ta-ta, docktah.” 

Steve huffed in annoyance. Tony was brilliant. Tony was absolutely and utterly annoying. Sometimes Steve was pretty sure Tony was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of him. He’d probably try to ignore it if he wasn’t so tense about Bucky. There was something wrong with Bucky. Bucky was sick and Steve had absolutely no idea what it was yet and there wasn’t anything Steve could do but wait for Tony and perform more tests. He’d need to consult one of his medical books, maybe even call in a cardiovascular specialist. He wouldn’t miss what was wrong with Bucky. He’d find it before it got worse. He wasn’t letting this kid die. He had to make sure he could rub that in Bucky’s face one day… 

* * *

 

Steve knocked on Bucky’s door, carrying two plates on a tray. Plenty of nurses and other doctors had seen Steve do this on numerous occasions for Peter. He was sure no one would think twice if Steve was branching out to his new patient. 

Bucky was asleep. Steve put the tray down as quietly as possible. He gently put the back of his hand against Bucky’s forehead. _‘He’s hot.’_ Frowning, Steve grabbed the thermometer and a blood pressure cuff. He’d need to wake Bucky. He brushed at Bucky’s wavy hairline, watching as the brown hair would fall right back into place atop his head. Bucky stirred. 

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to tell Bucky that anything was wrong. He had to do something to counter this. He had to give Bucky hope. 

“What time issit?” Bucky slurred, rubbing his knuckles against his eyes. He coughed a few times. It was wet. He grimaced, swallowing hard. 

“You shouldn’t swallow it,” Steve stated. “I need to take your temperature. It’s half-passed seven.” 

“But you’re off at seven?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes rounding in panic. 

Steve laughed. He wasn’t the least bit surprised Bucky knew his rounds went from seven to seven. “I’m off the clock. On-call though. I wanted to wait for your lab results. Open your mouth, please.” 

“Are my results back? Am I clean?” Bucky pushed Steve’s hand away, lowering the thermometer.

“Let me take your temperature first,” Steve deflected. His heart started to jump into his throat as his fingers tingled. He didn’t want to do this. Bucky was a volatile personality. He’d been scorned day in and day out by his condition and his family. He felt abandoned and Steve didn’t need to be a psychologist to tell Bucky was depressed. 

“You’re not workin’ anymore! What’re my results, Steve?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. He coughed softly. 

Steve put the thermometer down as he fell into the chair beside the bed that was meant for guests. Steve hated these chairs. The rolling chairs were much more comfortable. He had no idea why the hospital bought such uncomfortable chairs for the families and friends of patients. “You’ve got an infection.” Steve could practically hear his heart begin to shatter bit by bit as Bucky’s face went white as a sheet. “Sharon’s already called your parents. You’re not going home till we can figure out what’s causing it.” 

“Wait,” Bucky began. “You’re tellin’ me that I’ve got an infection and you don’t know _why_?” 

“We’ll figure it out. We just need to do some more tests,” Steve stated, but it became obvious that Bucky wasn’t listening anymore. His chest was rising and falling in short, erratic bursts and his gaze was glued to the foot of the bed. His mouth was hanging open and his tongue remained pressed against the back of his teeth. “Bucky, you’re going to be fine.” 

“Shut up,” Bucky whispered. 

“Bucky−” 

“I said shut up, Steve!” Bucky yelled. “Stop telling me I’m gonna be fine! I’m sick of hearin' it! I’m not gonna be fine so stop _lying_ to me! Fuckin’ treat me like a _God-damned_ human being for once!” 

Steve’s eyes went wide as his mouth dropped. The room was silent, save for the gentle hum from the air conditioner. Steve didn’t know what to say. He watched as Bucky wrapped his arms around himself as he continued to stare at the end of the bed. Steve listened to the rhythm of his own breathing, watching Bucky continue to recede further and further into his head. Steve hated watching this. Fear etched itself so deeply into Bucky; raising his veins, hastening his breathing and coating him with a light sheen of anxious sweat. Steve knew that look. He’d known what it felt like to experience it. He remembered how cold he felt when he thought he was dying. 

Steve stood up, removing the guardrail to the bed and scooting next to Bucky. He wrapped his arm around the boy, gently caressing his fingers up and down his soft skin. He could feel the goosebumps that rose from Bucky’s anxiety. Steve was painfully aware that this was a child. He was still quite sure he was going to some deep, cold pit in hell to be tortured for eternity for what he was beginning to feel for this kid, but he couldn’t think about that now. He would toss that guilt aside for another day because it was the last thing Bucky needed right now. He didn’t need any more stress. He needed stability. He needed reassurance; real and true and not some doctor’s good bedside manner. He needed a friend…a lover. 

“You’re a human,” Steve whispered, pressing a kiss behind Bucky’s ear. “You _are_ a human.” He pressed another kiss against Bucky’s temple. “You’re a living, breathing, thinking person.” He pressed a kiss against Bucky’s cheekbone. “And you deserve to live as much as any other, living, breathing, thinking person.” 

He felt Bucky’s muscles relax. Bucky’s weight shifted so he was leaning against Steve, pressing his head into Steve’s shoulder. Steve kissed the top of his head. He’d be lying if he said he could ignore the guilt that panged against his heart, slamming it like a gong as it reverberated against his body. He furrowed his brow. He wouldn’t think about it. Bucky needed comfort, he needed healing and Steve was his doctor so he’d give him anything he needed. He wouldn’t think about himself right now. That wasn’t fair to Bucky. 

“Please swear to me, Steve,” Bucky said, swallowing thickly. “Please swear to me that if I’m dying, or you think I’m gonna die, _please_ just tell me. Don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t try to avoid it. Just fuckin’ tell me.” 

Steve bit his lip, furrowing his brow as he felt something coil around his heart and tug, tearing tiny little lacerations into it. “I swear,” he croaked. “But you’re not dying. Not right now.” 

“I could be,” Bucky laughed out. “I could be fuckin’ dying. You don’t even know.” 

“We need to run more tests,” Steve countered. “Not knowing a conclusive diagnosis is different from not knowing anything at all.” 

“You’re disgustingly optimistic,” Bucky snorted. He pressed his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. “I just wanna…” Bucky scrunched up his face as he shook his head softly. “Nevermind.” 

“Tell me,” Steve responded. 

“It’s stupid.” 

Steve narrowed his eyes. “You can’t start sayin’ somethin’ and not expect me to wonder what it was!” 

Bucky laughed softly, but it was lifeless, like he wasn’t part of his body. “If I am dying,” he began. “I wanna experience all I can with you. Everything.” 

Steve felt that familiar sensation of guilt crawl up his spine again. “Bucky…” 

“We don’t know how long I’ve got, Steve!” Bucky exclaimed, sitting up and pressing a hand into Steve’s chest for balance. “If it’s not this, it’s something else. If it’s not an infection, it’s pneumonia. If it’s not pneumonia it’s cancer. I can’t beat cancer, Steve!” 

“Lotsa people beat cancer, Bucky,” Steve softly retorted. 

“You honestly think Peter’s gonna live?” Bucky asked, wincing as he said the words, almost like they were too vile to formulate. 

Steve’s heart froze. He felt cold claws surround it and squeeze as hard as they could. He never wanted to confront this. He’d always kept painfully optimistic when it came to Peter Parker. He watched that kid from day to day get smaller, paler, frailer, weaker… He also watched him get stronger. There was a time when they thought he was going to die, but then he didn’t. Steve had seen miracles before. He was praying for one when it came to Peter. “I’m not answering that.” 

Bucky sighed heavily, looking down at his feet. “I’m jus’ sayin’. We don’t know how much time we’ve got. I don’t want to waste it.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you my boyfriend, Steve?” Bucky asked; looking up into Steve’s eyes, searching for answers that Steve wasn’t sure he even had to give. 

Steve’s mouth parted as he thought on the question. He’d agreed to be Bucky’s…but whatever label that went with, Steve wasn’t entirely sure. He’d mostly agreed out of sheer panic (and a bit of confused curiosity) because Steve was attributing Bucky’s health to his happiness and if Steve could give Bucky any form of happiness, perhaps there was a chance he’d just keep fighting whatever came at him. Bucky was beautiful. His large, blue eyes, long lashes and soft, curved mouth; they were all indicators of how gorgeous Bucky would be as he matured. Steve’s gaze traced the soft curve of Bucky’s cheeks. Once his baby fat receded, Bucky would be left with sharp, defined cheeks and a strong jaw line. He would be _flawless_. But he wasn’t there just yet. He was hanging by a thread that Steve quite literally was dangling and Steve couldn’t see that thread cut. Steve had seen miracles. He always encouraged prayer or people to “send positive thoughts,” to those ill. It astonished Steve how well those things actually worked; whether it was God, luck or the body just fighting stronger because of optimism and hope, Steve didn’t truly know− he didn’t like to put all his eggs in one basket. He’d honestly reasoned it was a combination of all of it. Bucky needed that. 

“I dunno,” Steve answered simply. “I’m still trying to understand what I’m doing.” 

Bucky nodded, shrugging softly. “Are you gonna leave me?” 

“No,” Steve answered all-too-quickly. He clenched his jaw; forcing all his thoughts to the furthest corners of his mind. “This is all just…happening so fast. People usually take their time.” 

“But what if I don’t have time?” 

Steve sighed. Bucky was obstinate when it came to his mortality. He was obsessed with it. Steve couldn’t fault him for it, but Steve recognized an obsession when he saw one. Bucky was fixated on two things as far as Steve could tell. Steve and dying. The simplest cure to one of those things would to just give the other over to Bucky, which would mean Steve would say that yes, he was Bucky’s boyfriend. 

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend, Bucky?” Steve asked, neglecting Bucky’s previous question. 

Bucky bit his lip, his cheeks rushing with color. It was a stark contrast against his pale skin, like rose petals against an ivory statue. “Only if you want me to be.” 

Steve laughed. “You wanna move things faster, fine, we’ll move things faster. I’ll be your boyfriend. Again, just…don’t tell anyone.” 

Bucky huffed. “As if I’d be that stupid.” He curled into Steve, nestling his head against Steve’s collar bone. “Sucks though.” 

“What sucks?” Steve asked, watching as Bucky traced one of the seams on his scrubs. 

“It’s still like I don’t really exist.” 

Steve furrowed his brow, taking Bucky’s hand into his and caressing his thumb over his knuckles. “You do exist. There’s a giant paper trail of you existing. Birth records, medical records, hospital tests, the insurance companies paying for this room… You do exist. Just differently.” 

Bucky smiled, rolling his eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about this heavy shit no more. Can we make out?” 

Steve laughed loudly. He was more surprised at the sudden change in demeanor than he was honestly at the idea. Bucky was a whirlwind of volatile emotions, chinks in armor and a damn steel vault all at the same time. The more Steve spent time with him and really listened to him, the more he saw of himself. Uncertainty was the easiest road to desperation. Steve’s life had been uncertain till he’d gotten older and even now he worked twice as hard to keep his immune system as healthy as he possibly could. Perhaps he could share his diet and encourage Bucky to lightly work out when he felt up to it. Anything to give this kid hope. 

Bucky didn’t want for an answer. He slid one of his slender, bare legs over Steve’s middle, hovering slightly over Steve. Steve readjusted so he was more on the bed. His hands instantly went to Bucky’s hips, pulling him down so he could feel Bucky against him. He felt guilt coil up his spine again, tugging at the base of his brain as logic tried desperately to stop this. Steve had dug this hole. He’d created this demon. He couldn’t leave it. He couldn’t leave Bucky. He’d destroy the boy faster than he could help him heal if he left him now. 

Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s, clearly having picked up on a few of Steve’s moves as he ran his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, tracing it lightly with the tip of his tongue. He moved back, biting his lower lip, his eyes swimming in innocence and insecurity. 

Steve growled. “You could kill someone with that look,” Steve mumbled, pressing tiny, chaste kisses against Bucky’s lips. 

Bucky laughed, pushing Steve back. “I know.” He bit the side of his lips again, waggling his brow lightly as he pressed back into Steve, enveloping his lips once more. Bucky’s hands roamed over Steve’s shoulders and cupped at his shoulder blades. 

Steve pulled at Bucky’s hips, fighting hard to not roll up into this boy. That wasn’t what was happening. They were just kissing. It was still all about kissing. Steve couldn’t push something more intimate on Bucky. _‘He’s a fucking kid!’_  

Steve shoved his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, earning a soft yelp from the boy as his hands moved from Bucky’s hips to his butt, feeling the thin fabric of Bucky’s boxers. He squeezed Bucky’s ass before running his hands up to Bucky’s hips again and down onto his thighs. Bucky’s skin was so soft. A life time of being indoors would do that to a person, but Steve enjoyed how Bucky felt like cool, soft porcelain. 

Bucky whined into the kiss. His tongue found Steve’s, pressing lightly into it before running his tongue along the underside of Steve’s. He curled his tongue along the underside, eliciting a soft chuckle from Steve. “Tha’ ‘ickles,” Steve mumbled into the kiss. 

Bucky’s fingers roamed under Steve’s scrub top, tracing his abdomen’s muscles, fingering around his belly button. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” Bucky breathed out, breaking the kiss. 

Steve watched as a solo saliva strand glistened between them, breaking as soon as Bucky’s face got too far away. 

“What?” Steve asked, feeling a tug against his heart. Had he done something wrong? Was this too much for Bucky? 

“Your _abs_.” Bucky traced along the middle of them, spreading his fingers around each muscle, making six small boxes as he completed the maneuver around each one. “The fuck they feed you?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “I eat my vegetables.” Steve went to press his lips against Bucky’s but the boy turned, and Steve kissed his cheek instead. Steve pulled back, furrowing his brow as he lightly traced his teeth together. 

“Take your top off?” Bucky asked. “I wanna see ‘em.” Bucky scooted forward against Steve. The soft, innocent roll was enough to force Steve to clench his leg muscles as he suppressed the desire to roll upward and into Bucky. 

Steve pulled his scrub top over his head, dropping it to the side of him. 

Bucky’s gaze roamed over Steve’s torso. His lithe fingers gently caressed down Steve’s chest, tracing the dips of his pectorals, over his sternum and down around his abdomen once more. “You’re really smooth.” 

“I wax,” Steve said; shrugging. “I’m a bit obsessed with self-presentation.” 

“No shit,” Bucky laughed out. He swallowed hard. Steve could practically hear Bucky’s dry tongue slick against the soft moisture in the back of Bucky’s throat. Bucky coughed. He brought both hands up; covering his mouth as if he was afraid something other than a cough would escape him. 

Steve leaned sideways, reaching for the tissues and hand sanitizer. He handed each in turn to Bucky. He hated that his cock was getting slightly hard from Bucky’s coughing. Each time he’d cough, his body would rock against Steve’s. Steve couldn’t do anything short of removing Bucky from atop him and he didn’t want Bucky to think this made him uncomfortable. It didn’t. It was just a cough. It was just a symptom… _‘And we don’t even know the cause…’_  

“I’ll bet this is a total turn off…” Bucky mumbled, grabbing the tissue and wiping his hands against it. 

“Remember that whole, “I’m a doctor thing?” Yeah this doesn’t faze me.” Steve grabbed the used tissue, tossing it into the waste can by the bed. “Open your hands.” Steve squirted the hand sanitizer into Bucky’s hands and watched as the boy scrubbed at them till the liquid seeped into his skin. He also squeezed some into his hands.

“What fazes you?” Bucky asked. He wrapped his arms around the back of Steve’s neck, caressing the hairs on his lower cranium. 

Steve’s eyes fought to stay open. The soft sensations Bucky was eliciting at the back of his head were hypnotic, like calming ocean waves. “Uh…” he drawled. “When people are intentionally gross? Like, I don’t care about burping or farting cause that’s all natural to the body but like…throwing fecal matter against walls? Peeing on stuff? That’s kind of gross.” 

Bucky laughed. He threw his head back into the laughter, exposing his neck and jutting out his Adam’s apple. Steve watched it dance within his throat till Bucky faced him again. Bucky was delicious, from his soft skin to his lip biting and that adorable little laugh. He was forbidden fruit and Steve was a glutton for it. “That’s disgusting,” Bucky giggled, biting at the side of his lip as his eyes flashed with a dark, flirtatious glimmer. 

Steve kissed at those lips, grazing his teeth along them as he pulled just enough to force Bucky to roll forward atop his lap. Steve allowed a soft, guttural moan to escape the back of his throat. “It happens a lot here. Thank God for volunteers, right?” he spoke against Bucky’s lips, feeling Bucky try to nip and lap at his lips as he spoke. It was like a game. 

“You make volunteers clean that up?” Bucky gasped. “That’s so cruel!” 

Steve laughed, leaning back to take Bucky’s face in as he ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. “Doctors won’t do it and nurses are too busy. So yeah. Volunteers.” 

The playful expression on Bucky’s face faded into a blank stare. He traced his fingers over Steve’s shoulders, pushing his fingers into the dips of Steve’s clavicles. “You’re a lot sexier than I thought you’d be.” 

Steve cocked a brow, sporting a challenging facial expression. “Oh yeah?” 

“Well I mean, I knew you were hot,” Bucky laughed as he shifted his weight atop Steve. “But I didn’t expect your body to look like this. Peter told me you worked out but…” He shrugged. “I dunno. I've never seen a body like this...” 

“It takes a lot of time to get it this way,” Steve responded. He watched Bucky’s fingers trail along his serratus anterior muscles, trailing down to his obliques. 

“I’m just skin and mush,” Bucky stated, cocking his head to the side as he traced against the top of Steve’s Adonis lines. 

“You look fine. You’re a great weight for your height and age.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Doc. What does my _boyfriend_ think?”

Steve pulled at Bucky’s hospital gown to expose a shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss into the skin, swirling his tongue around it, connecting the dark freckles against Bucky’s skin there. “Your boyfriend thinks your body is gorgeous.” 

Bucky pushed Steve back, slamming him into the pillows. His eyes sparkled with play as he allowed a fox’s grin to grace his features. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that.” 

Steve rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Sure Buck. You’re actually hideously disgusting. I have a thing for grotesque people. The uglier the better. Give me a man with a hump on his back and a unibrow and I’m weak in the knees.” 

Bucky playfully swatted Steve’s chest. “Steve!” he gasped. “That’s so rude! I don’t have a hump or a unibrow!” 

Steve shrugged, pursing his lips. “Man, I guess I just don’t find you attractive then.” 

Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s, laughing into the kiss. His kiss was flirtatious; baiting Steve’s tongue further into his mouth before tucking it back or to the sides were Steve couldn’t reach. Steve was surprised at how skilled Bucky had become with kissing. He also couldn’t deny the warming sensation that spread through his chest, like a gulp of warm coffee as Bucky’s kiss enveloped him further. Bucky smelled like brown sugar and honey lotion with a hint antibacterial soap. His mouth had that distinct plastic taste that a person got after swallowing too many pills and not eating enough, but it wasn’t unpleasant; just plastic-tasting. Bucky _was_ a patient. 

Steve wanted to hate how much he loved being like this with Bucky, but he adored it. Each moment that passed as their lips caressed over each other’s or their tongues greeted or danced around each other, Steve found himself more and more intoxicated by this boy’s presence, his scent and those curious fingers. Steve didn’t even think about the door anymore… 

Bucky’s hips rolled against Steve as he wrapped his arms tightly around Steve’s shoulders. Steve could feel the outline of Bucky’s testicles through those thin boxers. He rolled back, cupping Bucky’s ass and squeezing those soft cheeks into his hands. Bucky gasped, turning his head so he could deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into Steve’s mouth, running his tongue along the topside of Steve’s as he tickled his taste buds. 

Steve massaged Bucky’s ass, rolling softly up into Bucky, pulling soft moans from him as he’d push against the boy’s cock. Was this happening? Was Steve really going to do this right now? Bucky wasn’t stopping him… Bucky was encouraging him with those wandering hands and those innocent, high-pitched moans. His fingers weren’t trembling and his legs were tightly wrapped around Steve’s body now. 

Steve bit down against Bucky’s bottom lip, tugging lightly before massaging any pain he may have caused away. He rocked into Bucky more, creating a slow, steady rhythm. Bucky was hard against his torso. Each light roll of Steve’s body and he could feel Bucky’s cock press against him. This boy had never been touched before. Steve was pretty sure Bucky knew how to masturbate, but Steve was absolutely sure this kid never had _anyone else_ touch his cock. The thought stirred something deep inside Steve as he groaned, pulling at Bucky’s hips, rolling his body harder into the boy. 

“St-eve!” Bucky gasped, breaking their kiss. “Time…the ti- _ime_!” 

Steve pulled back, his gaze searching for any clue as to what Bucky was talking about. 

“Sharon's gonna come in. Her nightly check?”

Steve had never been so disappointed in his life. His heart snapped from its perch, falling like a brick into the pit of his stomach. His cock throbbed violently against his leg as if screaming at the circumstance. He didn’t want to stop. Bucky didn’t feel like he wanted to stop either. 

Steve sighed, sucking in his lips and lapping at them with his tongue, licking off any traces of Bucky’s saliva; memorizing how he tasted. “Thanks,” he whispered. “For keeping an eye out.” 

Bucky slid off Steve, instantly hiding his erection as he brought his arms over his lap. “I said I’d keep us a secret.” 

Steve pressed one last, quick kiss against Bucky’s lips. “I know.” 

“Put your fuckin’ shirt on!” Bucky whined, shoving the scrub top into Steve’s hands. 

Steve stood up, tossing the top back over his head. 

Bucky laughed. 

Steve cocked a brow at him, confusion seeping into his face. 

“You’re hard,” Bucky stated, licking at the side of his lips proudly. “I got you hard.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re hiding yours, too!” 

Bucky laughed again. “Yeah but… _I_ got _you_ hard.” 

Steve realized what Bucky meant. Bucky, a boy who’d never been kissed, a boy who’d never been touched, he’d managed to successfully show some form of intimate connection with another human being. Steve could remember the first time he’d given a hand job to another guy after gym class. He’d been so proud of his ability to make the other come. He’d worn a shit-eating grin for the rest of the day. This was kind of like that. Bucky was proud of himself. 

Steve leaned down, kissing Bucky’s cheek. “Get yourself under those blankets before Sharon comes in, k?” 

“I mean, I could always lie and say she gets me hard?” Bucky suggested, his eyes swimming in jest. 

“Don’t you dare flirt with my favorite nurse!” Steve protested.

“Oh man,” Bucky giggled. “Do I have competition?” He slid his legs underneath the blankets, folding his hands into his lap. 

Steve scoffed. “I’m gay, genius. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Steve!” Bucky called; halting Steve’s movements toward the door. 

Steve turned around, locking his gaze with Bucky’s. Bucky’s jaw was clenched and his eyes were drowning in that fear from before. Steve was leaving; of course one obsession would slip into focus when the other was retreating. 

“Please don’t sugarcoat it. When you find out.”

Steve swallowed, nodding tightly. “I won’t, but I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t fix, Buck.”

 Bucky nodded, but his eyes told an entirely different story. He couldn’t be convinced otherwise. Bucky was obsessed with dying. Steve wondered if he should get a psych consult for Bucky, but he was pretty sure Bucky would feel insulted without having been asked first. Steve had done it before to other patients, but Bucky’s emotional stability was barely hanging on. He couldn’t risk pushing Bucky further down. He had to keep lifting him up. “Night, Steve.” 

“Night, Bucky.”

Steve left the room, walking past Sharon and giving her a wave. 

"How's it goin' in there?" Sharon asked.

Steve felt his cheeks get hot. "He's scared. I didn't exactly convince him to not worry."

Sharon scrunched up her face ."Aw, well, I'll talk to him. Maybe I can help. He's such a sweet boy. I hate seeing him upset."

Steve nodded, pushing his lips together. "Welp, I'm gonna hit the bars with Bruce and Sam. See you tomorrow?"

Sharon nodded. "Stay safe, Steve."

"Do my best."

He watched Sharon go into Bucky's room. Did she really have no idea? Was she onto him? He'd been in there for a long time. Was it okay? She'd been waiting out here. She hadn't gone in or knocked or anything... Was that normal? Steve really liked Sharon. She was one of the best nurses he'd met and their friendship was rather important to him. If she knew...would she hate him? Would she accept it? 

What about Peter and Bucky? There were so many people involved, so many possible areas where Steve could slip up or where Bucky could slip up.

Sighing heavily, Steve dragged himself out of the hospital. He'd worry himself sick about this if he didn't convince himself to forget about it for now. No one knew right now. Everything was perfectly fine right now. The rain had let up, but it was muggy and the air was thick. He looked back up at the hospital, scanning the fourth floor windows. He wondered which one was Bucky's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment, or add me on tumblr and talk to me (I'd love to hear other people's headcanons and their own feelings toward anything Stucky/comic related (as long as it isn't negative! Though I should think you wouldn't read something you didn't like), I'd really like to get more involved in the fandom with people, I just don't know how!)
> 
> If you've got a Stucky fanfiction, let me know! I'd love to read it :)
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)  
> Also, do people mind how long my chapters are? Should I shorten them? I know I write such long chapters, but if that bothers people, I can start shortening them up! Just let me know!


	3. Pneumonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Warning! NSWF gifs/images used in the bottom notes! (To credit images I used for...this chapter....is that a spoiler? Oops...)
> 
> Thank you everyone for all the support this story has been given! I am overwhelmed and entirely too happy I get to share this with you! <3 <3 <3 I just wanna share my angsty-love about these two knuckle heads with you forevaaaaa~
> 
> (The very tail end scene is not edited because I have to rush to leave now...so if there's a typo or anything, just tell me and I'll correct it!)
> 
> Check out this amazing photoset that [IdRatherHaveYouMetalArmOrNot](http://idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot.tumblr.com/) made for me!  
> [CLICK ME!!](http://l1av.tumblr.com/post/120212779333/idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot-get-to-know-me/)

“If you don’t give me one of your veins this instant, young man,” Steve warned, wagging his finger in Bucky’s face. “I’m gonna never kiss you again.”

Bucky squirmed in his bed, clutching his arm as he tucked it into his chest. “I hate giving blood!” he cried. “It makes my toes hurt.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s not even a thing!”

“It’s psychological!” Bucky defended.

Steve narrowed his eyes, holding up the hollow needle. “Look,” he said. Steve put the tourniquet on himself, raising up his veins in his arm. He stuck the needle in, allowing blood to flow into it and into the small tube for collection.

Bucky’s face pinched as he watched the blood. “You didn’t even wince.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Steve said. “You’ve had this done loads of times!”

“I know! That’s how I know it hurts!” Bucky pulled the blankets over his head.

Steve sighed heavily. Stark had requested both a urine and blood sample in order to continue looking into Bucky’s case. When Steve had come to check on Bucky this morning, the boy had been doubled over in his bed coughing up wet, thick globs of phlegm. His fever had let up mildly, but Steve was sure that was due to the medication he’d put Bucky on. He needed to get these samples stat.

 It was in this moment, watching Bucky make himself into a human burrito that again, Steve was very, _painfully_ aware of his age difference with Bucky. Bucky was acting like a child, floundering around on his bed and making excuses. Children protested blood tests. Adults may groan about it, but they’d accept it eventually.

“Bucky, please,” Steve said softer. “We can find out what’s going on in there with this.”

Bucky’s face darkened as he chewed at the side of his lip. “Kiss me.”

Steve shot Bucky a deadpanned expression. “Bucky…”

“No,” Bucky began. “I mean, kiss me…and take my blood. So it doesn’t hurt?”

Steve opened up another hollow needle, preparing his instruments for Bucky’s sample. “What if I miss? This is more dangerous than me just taking the blood while looking.”

“You won’t miss. You’re an amazing doctor.”

Steve licked at his lips. When Sharon had seen the blood test order, she instantly began gathering materials to go into Bucky’s room. Steve had been quick to find a way to weasel his way in instead. She’d made a joke about how dedicated of a doctor Steve was, but something from that comment sat against Steve funny, like she was putting two and two together…

“Bucky, we can kiss after.”

“Please! Please, please, please, _please_!” Bucky begged. He rolled around in the bed, burrowing himself further into the blankets. He poked his head out, blinking his long eyelashes up at Steve; his eyes sparkled like a night’s sky.

“Damn it, Bucky,” Steve said. “Fine. But you better not flinch!” Steve hated how his heart attempted to slide down into his spine as he’d conceded. A child whined and complained till they got their way. Bucky was a child… _‘Why am I doing this to myself?’_

Bucky wormed his way out of the blankets as he smiled triumphantly. “I won’t. Promise.”  He sat up, extending his arm for Steve.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s wrist, noticing how small the bones really were. Bucky had such a presence; it was easy to forget how fragile and small he really was. _‘And sick.’_ Steve slipped the tourniquet up Bucky’s arm, watching the blue veins rise under pale skin. Steve pushed at one, watching as it dipped gently and popped back up. “That hurt?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “No? That’s not a needle.”

“Some people actually find that painful. It’s actually a medical condition.”

Bucky laughed darkly. “Welp, glad that’s not on my never-ending list of reasons I’m gonna die.”

Steve’s brows knit together in despondence. “Bucky…we need to talk about that.”

Bucky pulled his arm back. Steve could almost see the capillaries breaking in Bucky’s eyes as horror drained into them. “I’m gonna die?!”

Steve put his hands out in a desperate attempt to calm Bucky. “No! No that’s not what I meant!” Steve put the needle down. “I mean about your…fixation.” He assumed Bucky would find the word “obsession” distasteful. The last thing he needed was Bucky’s erratic personality to explode at him. If Bucky got too emotionally over-stimulated, Steve was honestly afraid that Bucky would slip up and expose their relationship somehow. It pained him to realize how much trust he _did not_ have in Bucky. But he didn’t trust him. He cared for him, but caring and trusting were two different things and Steve was still learning the inner bells and whistles of Bucky’s personality. What he saw was a mess of a boy who was terrified of his own shadow; clinging onto a life that he felt wasn’t really meant to be his.

Bucky stared at Steve with unwavering eyes before inhaling a deep breath. “Just stick the damn needle in me already,” he said. “And kiss me.”

Steve offered a weak smile, but there was no light in his eyes. Bucky was deflecting, or at least Steve was pretty sure Bucky was deflecting. Steve was no psychologist, but he was pretty sure he knew how angsty teenage boys reacted to subjects they didn’t want to talk about. Steve picked the needle back up, bringing it atop one of Bucky’s veins. “Hold your arm steady.” His heart quickened as a small sense of worry tightened his chest; squeezing his veins. He didn’t want to mess up. If he missed the vein this could make Bucky much more frazzled, and Steve didn’t want to see Bucky any more unsound than he was already.

Bucky licked at his lips, watching with wide, innocent eyes as Steve moved closer. He reached up, catching Steve’s lips against his own. Steve pushed the needle in. The soft, almost inaudible gasp that Bucky let slip was enough to send shivers of desire down Steve’s spine. How could he go from one moment questioning this boy to wanting nothing but him? What spell had Bucky cast that made Steve so desperate to slide his tongue against the brunette’s?

Steve pulled back, earning a soft whimper from Bucky. “I’ve gotta close the tube up.”

Bucky looked down at his arm, eyeing the small dot against his pale skin. “It didn’t hurt.”

“Glories of distraction, huh?” Steve said as he removed the tourniquet.

“Can we keep doin’ it?” Bucky asked.

Steve jerked his head back incredulously. “Draw blood?”

“No!” Bucky laughed. “Kiss. I wanna do more of what we did last night.”

Steve felt a small pressure gather, like a bullet against his heart. He looked at the door. It was broad daylight and the entire day staff was frequenting the halls. “How ‘bout later tonight?”

Bucky’s eyes dulled as he looked to his feet. “Okay…” he said softly.

“Hey,” Steve said, grabbing the boy’s chin. “I want to. We just have to be mindful.”

Bucky shrugged, pulling away from Steve. “It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Steve asked, feeling a heart rise from his stomach. Bucky’s behavior today… He was like a can of paint exploding into a white room; unpredictable and violent.

“Laws. Rules. Bullshit that says we can’t really be together.”

Steve nodded as he pursed his lips. “Yeah, but, the law’s the law.” _‘And I’m breaking it…’_

“Where you goin’ now?” Bucky asked as he grabbed Steve’s hand to trace the lines of his knuckles.

Steve’s fingers twitched from the feather-light sensation that dusted across them. He chuckled softly. “Tickles.”

Bucky cracked a small smile. “Really? On your hands?”

“You’re touching really lightly!” Steve defended. He pulled away, watching all the light in Bucky’s eyes extinguish faster than a candle depraved of oxygen.

“I’ve got rounds. Dr. Conners wants me to watch a procedure later as well.”

“I’ll miss you,” Bucky uttered softly. He ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip as if he was unsure of himself. His round eyes were practically gazing inside Steve; drinking up every last bit of Steve’s soul.

 Steve looked away as his cheeks heated up. “I’ve gotta go,” he said. His feet suddenly felt heavy. He hated this. He hated everything about this. He accepted he wanted to be with Bucky. He accepted he found the boy so _God damned_ attractive. The way Bucky moved, even if it was the most innocent of gestures, like getting up to go to the bathroom or the way he licked at his lips when he was feeling insecure was so fucking seductive.

Just this morning, Steve noticed how Bucky’s hips swayed when he walked or how he’d curl his toes when he played his video games. Steve had never so badly wanted to lick someone’s foot, but he sure as hell wanted to lick Bucky’s. Bucky practically radiated purity and sexuality all at once and Steve _hated_ how much he couldn’t simply get over the fact that Bucky was a teenager. He hated that he couldn’t just casually note to Sharon that Steve was with Bucky now. He hated lying to Peter even if it was Peter that put this damn seed in Steve’s head in the first place!

“Steve?” Bucky asked, cocking his head to the side. “You okay?”

Steve blinked. He swallowed hard, jerking himself up to give Bucky a quick peck on the cheek and strode out of the room.

He completely forgot to get the urine sample. He shut the door, leaning his head back against it. _‘Don’t you dare start fucking up because you can’t focus. Get the fucking sample later you dipshit.’_

* * *

 

After Steve left, Bucky found himself alone in a dark, silent room. When Steve was around he felt light; like he could simply float away and that nothing bad could ever happen. When Steve left, it was as if a glass ceiling crashed down upon Bucky, slicing him with thousands of tiny shards, cutting in and exposing every fear Bucky ever had.

He coughed a few times, silently thanking whatever God or deity that potentially existed for there being no phlegm this time. With the antibiotics in his system, Bucky was pretty safe to go see Peter if he wanted to. Most of him wanted to. Part of him didn’t. Bucky used to gush about Steve constantly to Peter. They’d talk about Steve’s lunch that day or how long Steve’s beard had gotten. They’d create stories of Bucky secretly seeing Steve and what that’d be like.

Back then it was all a joke.

Back before it really hit Bucky.

_‘I’m gonna die.’_

It was hard to find friends when you were constantly in and out of a hospital, but Bucky had found comfort in Peter and Peter had found it in him. Bucky had been so pissed the day his parents decided to cover the higher cost of having a private room for Bucky. Sure it worked out in the end because of Steve, but back then it was like the world was coming to an end.

Peter and Bucky shared everything. Peter was the first person Bucky really opened up to about his fear of death. He hadn’t even really adequately explained it all to Steve. Death was like a black, smoky pit in the back of Bucky’s mind, slowly creeping up on him more and more as each day passed. He couldn’t be happy because he knew it was just behind him. He couldn’t allow himself to relax…because it was always following him. Peter had understood. Peter felt the same way. They were children destine to die long before their natural lives should end and yet here they were, laughing and attempting to joke about the idea of their funerals and how their families would have to pretend they got along with each other. Both families had blood feuds in them.

Bucky stood up, feeling his gown tickle at the back of his calves as he padded toward the door. He missed Peter. He missed him so much.

He opened the door, peaking out and seeing a few doctors and some nurses. He looked down the other hall. Steve wasn’t around and Sharon couldn’t be found either. Bucky walked barefoot down the halls. He knew he wasn’t actually supposed to, but he never really listened to the rules. He was breaking them with Steve anyway, so what was one more broken rule?

He ran his tongue across the front of his teeth as he came before Peter’s door. His chart was missing. Someone was inside with him. Shrugging, Bucky stormed in. In hindsight he should have turned around and gone back to his room, but part of him knew Steve would be in there. And all of him wanted to see Steve.

Steve’s eyes rounded as he sat atop a black, rolling chair. “Bucky? What’re you doing out of bed?”

“I just wanted to see Peter, St” Bucky halted his words. “Doc.” His heart fell. It wasn’t just that gut feeling a person got when caught doing something stupid, it was that agonizing, despondent feeling that pulled his heart from its strings, dragging it through his intestines and swirling it around till it no longer had the will to keep beating. Steve wasn’t Steve right now. Steve was Dr. Rogers and Dr. Rogers was visiting a patient and Bucky had intruded on Dr. Rogers and Dr. Rogers had sworn an oath for patient-doctor confidentiality and Bucky wasn’t allowed to be in here because Dr. Rogers was in here with Peter.

Steve cleared his throat, scratching at his beard. “Would you mind waiting back in your room?”

Peter paled as his brown eyes flicked from one person to the other. “What if I want him in here, Steve?”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open. He’d heard Peter call Steve that before, but it wasn’t fair right now. Peter was allowed to call Steve…Steve…. in front of anyone and Bucky had to pretend and call him Dr. Rogers. Bucky had to deny his relationship with Steve. Bucky couldn’t share how much he cared about Steve or how good Steve made him feel when they were kissing. He couldn’t tell anyone about the way his cock pulsated in his gown when Steve’s hands were at his hips, clutching and pulling him closer, rolling those wide, sturdy hips back into his. He couldn’t tell anyone.

He wasn’t allowed. But Peter was.

“James,” Steve said, snapping Bucky from his thoughts. “Please go back to your room?” Steve looked down a few times at Bucky’s lower half.

Mortified, Bucky ran from the room, running past a nurse who called out to him to stop running but he ignored her. He’d gotten hard. He was standing in nothing but his boxers and his gown and he’d gotten hard; right in front of Steve being Dr. Rogers and right in front of Peter. What if he ruined everything? What if it made Steve change his mind? If Steve changed his mind…if he ended things with Bucky… Bucky would…Bucky would…

_‘I’d die.’_

He curled up on his bed, feeling his limbs tingle from the rush of angry adrenaline that flowed into his heart. He’d gotten hard. He’d stood there and he’d gotten hard. If a nurse had been in there… If anyone other than Peter had been there…but at the same time it was _terrible_ that Peter had been there.

Peter was smarter than anyone in the world. Peter knew things before even Bucky knew them about himself. Bucky had made a promise. He’d promised never to tell anyone; not even Peter. What would Steve do if Bucky accidently broke that promise? What would happen to them now?

He looked down, cursing his erection. It still tingled, aching to be touched. Bucky looked up at the door. Would Steve come in? Would he be angry or would he pretend that nothing happened? Maybe things would be fine… Bucky hadn’t technically said anything. He was a teenager! Random erections happened all the time. He could just say it was one of those! He could even probably convince Peter… _‘Like hell I can.’_

He lifted up his gown, sliding his fingers to the waistband of his boxers. He’d done this before. He’d done this many times in the shower or the bathroom even when he’d roomed with Peter. Last night with Steve though… He’d wanted _so badly_ for Steve to touch _him_. He wanted to know what it was like to have someone else’s hands cover his cock.

His long fingers slipped below the waistband as his fingertips grazed against his cock. He bit his lip as soft jolts of pleasure traveled up his nerves. Slowly, he rubbed at the underside; enticing his erection to build to full height once more. Quiet, short whimpers slipped from Bucky’s lips as he danced his fingers up to the tip of his cock. He pressed two fingers to the tip, fingering back and forth around the slit.

Bucky pressed his head back into the pillow; his lips parting as he panted lightly. He wanted Steve to touch him. He wanted to know what it was like to moan into someone else’s mouth as he came. He wanted to know what Steve felt like in his own hands… He needed to know everything before...

_‘I’m gonna die.’_

Bucky wrapped his fingers around his cock, flicking his wrist as he pumped up and down, feeling the thin skin of his cock rise and fall with his strokes. He panted harder, whining softly. He wanted Steve to touch him. He wanted Steve to see him like this. He wanted Steve over him; naked and sweaty and panting with eyes that _begged_ to drink Bucky in.

Bucky gasped as he twirled his wrist, slipping his other hand down his boxers to cup at his balls and give them a little squeeze. “Mmm,” he moaned. “St-Steve.”

He brought his fingers up to his slit, sliding them back and forth absently as he held his cock firm with his other hand. His legs squeezed together as he arched his back. Oh _God_ he wanted Steve to touch him. He needed him to! He needed to know what it felt like to have Steve’s large, hot hands caressing his dick, pumping at his body. He needed to know what he’d sound like when Steve would build so much pleasure up in Bucky that he thought he’d explode.

Bucky quickened his pace; fist-fucking himself faster as he rolled his hips into the air. “Mm, mm, mmm,” he whined; the image of Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock burning into the back of his eyelids. _‘What if Steve put his mouth on it?’_

Bucky lost it. He felt the warming sensation of his climax spread into him, coming down from his shoulders and pushing out frantically from the tip of his cock as he spilled his seed into his boxers. “Ah! Fuck! Fuck! _Fuck_!”

If Steve didn’t hate him…he needed to do this. He needed to know what it felt like with Steve. He couldn’t stand not knowing anymore. He needed to know everything before he died. Everything.

Someone knocked at the door. Bucky sat up, pulling the covers over his body. Peter came in, pushing along his IV stand. “Hey,” he greeted. “Steve said I could come see you. You okay?”

Bucky felt embarrassment prickle into his skin, as it nestled just below the surface. He looked down at his lap; knowing the evidence of his sins was just below the layers. “Yeah, m’fine.”

“You looked…upset.”

Bucky watched Peter crawl atop the foot of his bed. He pulled the blankets tighter around his body in response. “I didn’t mean to.” Did Peter not know? Had he not seen it? Bucky wasn’t exactly walking around with clothes on through the hospital. It was impossible to conceal a boner in a hospital gown.

“It’s fine. I just missed you. Wasn’t expecting St−, I mean Dr. Rogers in there.”

Peter laughed. “You still pining after him?”

Bucky’s face flushed. _‘Oh if you only knew.’_

Peter looked at the TV. His face was unreadable for a moment as his eyes seemed to glaze over. He was like a statue in that moment.

Bucky couldn’t bring himself to respond to Peter’s question. His tongue felt thick in his mouth as he sat there, anxious to remove his soiled boxers and even more anxious that Peter really did know.  

“I think he likes you,” Peter stated after they’d allowed the pause to become awkward. “He’s always talking about you.”

Bucky’s heart fluttered. “Really?”

Peter laughed. “Yeah. Asks a lot of questions about your crush on ‘em.”

“And you tell him?!” Bucky asked; his voice squeaking at the end.

“A little,” Peter answered honestly as he offered one shrugging shoulder. “I think he’d be good for you. Get you something else to think ‘bout.”

Bucky pouted as his brows pushed together. “What else do you two talk about?”

“Mostly medicine.” Peter grabbed Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s eyes filled with horror as he looked down at his hand… There was the slick shimmer of come against his palm.

“I’m not stupid, Buck,” Peter said. “I know when a guy’s been touching himself.”

Bucky pulled his hand back, wiping the come against his gown. He’d just put on a new one. “You’re sick.”

“You’re the one masturbating to his doctor.”

“How do you know?” Bucky protested as his voice shot up an octave.

“Oh come on, Bucky!” Peter laughed out. “You’ve only been obsessed with Steve since the moment he came into our room.”

Bucky started to laugh, but a cough came up his throat. It rocked his shoulders, pressing heavily against the back of his throat.

“You okay?” Peter asked; concern filled his eyes to the brim as he stared Bucky down with more dedication and worry than Bucky felt necessary.

“I’m fine, Pete,” Bucky responded. “I jus’ wanna wash my hands.”

He hopped from the bed toward the bathroom.

Peter followed. “So when you gonna do it?”

Bucky coughed from surprise as he choked on air. “Do it? Do what?”

“Y’know,” Peter began. “Tell Steve how you feel about him.”

It still pissed Bucky off that Peter could call Steve by his first name and yet Bucky had to be formal around others. He hated how Peter had a stronger bond out in the open with Steve than Bucky did. Bucky thought it wouldn’t be an issue to be tucked away and hidden as a dirty secret and up to this point, it had been easy. But Peter got to call Steve, _Steve_. Bucky didn’t.

“Never,” Bucky said curtly. He wanted to drop this conversation.  

Peter’s brow wrinkled. “Really? What do you have to lose? I swear he’s into you.”

“Can we just drop it, Peter?” Bucky spat. His face softened as his lips parted in surprise. “Pete, m’sorry.”

Peter shrugged. “S’cool.” Bucky watched as Peter squished his lips together. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean…health-wise?”

Bucky’s stomach dropped. He looked into the mirror, eyeing the red rims around his eyes and his pale, sickly skin. “I dunno. Doc says they’ve gotta run some tests.”

“You’ll be okay,” Peter said as he offered a shy smile. “If anyone’s dying outta you n’ me, it’s me.”

Bucky snorted, playfully punching Peter’s shoulder lightly. “Oh whatever.”

Someone else knocked at the door. Steve stepped in, his eyes widening in surprise just like they had when Bucky had barged in earlier. “Peter,” he greeted. “Do you mind going back to your room? I’ve got to collect a sample from Bucky.”

“What kind of sample?” Peter asked with a scoundrel’s smile across his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Patient-doctor confidentiality, I’m afraid.”

Peter looked between the two of them, eyeing them up and down. “Well, if you two ever feel like collecting confessions of deep, repressed feelings, you should exchange yours.”

“Peter!” Bucky exclaimed. He felt his face flush as red, hot blood rushed into his cheeks.

Peter laughed, flicking Bucky’s nose before pulling his IV stand out of the doorway and making his way toward the door. “See ya lovebirds.”

Once the door shut, Steve’s gaze rounded on Bucky as suspicion and anger bloomed behind those ocean-blues. “You tell him?” Steve asked.

“No! He’s always known I’ve got the hot’s for you!”

Steve sighed, running his hands over his face.

“And you’re apparently asking him shit about me?” Bucky stated as he squinted. “He’s not a dumbass, Steve! He’ll find out!”

Steve wiped at his nose in frustration. “I just…I needed someone to talk to.”

“Jesus, Steve!” Bucky spat. “You sit there and worry that I’m gonna spill and you’re the one running your mouth!”

“I’m not running my mouth, Bucky!”

Bucky snorted. “Oh please, you’re begging for Peter to find out.”

“I was looking for an excuse to end this, Bucky!” Steve exclaimed as he tossed his hands up in frustration. He sighed heavily.

Bucky’s heart froze. He felt his blood run cold as it slowed its circulation in his veins. He didn’t feel like he could move a muscle. “W-what?”

Steve collapsed onto the bed. “I thought…I thought that us doing this would only get you sicker.” He threw up his hands. “And it probably has. I mean, you’ve got a fucking cough and something else that I can’t even figure out yet.”

“And you think that leaving me is gonna help me?” Bucky questioned. He felt dizzy. If he took a step forward he’d crash into the floor. “Steve I need you!”

“I know!” Steve said softer. “I know. I’m not leaving. I just...” He shrugged. “It was a thought. I can’t…” He groaned. “I can’t get over how young you are.”

Bucky felt his legs soften. He slumped into the wall. “It’s just a number.”

Steve laughed sharply. “It’s not just a number, Bucky! Your behavior is completely categorized by it. You’re sixteen! I’m thirty-one! I could practically be your dad!”

“You’d have to have been fifteen! You’re not that much older.”

“Exactly, Bucky!” Steve said, outstretching his arm and opening his palm to Bucky. “I’m fifteen years older than you. I was basically your age when you were _born_.”

Bucky tottered over to Steve. His legs still felt funny. “Steve,” he said softly, caressing the pads of his fingers against Steve’s face; feeling the soft threads of his beard. He traced from the corners of his eyes down to the middle of his chin. “I don’t care.”

Steve closed his eyes. “I do.”

“But I−” Bucky shut his mouth as his teeth snapped audibly. _‘But I love you.’_ Was it even true? Bucky didn’t know. He’d never been in love. Steve was constantly on his mind. If he wasn’t busy worrying about an infection or the flu he was busy doting on Steve and wondering how he was doing, what he was wearing or what he was thinking. Bucky spent nearly every waking moment lamenting over Steve and wanting so much more of him. “I want you.”

Steve huffed through his nose.

“Please, Steve,” Bucky stated; his voice raspy. “I want you.”

The pain in Steve’s eyes was almost enough to send Bucky crumpling to the floor as it felt like every bone in his body was breaking. Steve’s eyes were drowning in anguish and Bucky had no idea how to relieve it.

“I want you too.”

Bucky felt the corners of his lips tug. “Then why’re we havin’ this conversation?” He leaned in to kiss Steve, but Steve turned his face. Bucky’s lips brushed over Steve’s beard.

“Because one second, I’m looking at you and wondering what you’d look like naked and under me and the next second I’m looking at you wondering if you’d like a lollipop after your examinations.”

Bucky creased his brows together.  He should have been happy that Steve had pictured him naked but he was too focused on Steve’s opinion of him. Steve was tormented by the idea of Bucky and the reality of Bucky. “Steve…I…I’m not…” Bucky bit his lip. “I’m not an adult. I’m a sixteen-year-old kid but…” He pressed his forehead against Steve’s. “My life expectancy…”

Steve gave the smallest of nods. “Is twenty-five…if that,” he finished.

Bucky swallowed hard; feeling his throat squeeze. “To you I’m just a kid. To me…I’m already in my fifty’s. Please don’t take this away from me.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle, dropping his head against the boy’s shoulder. “I’m not taking this away from you,” he answered. “I guess this is just…something that’s gonna take me a long time to get used to.”

“I might not have that much time.”

Steve’s face contorted into an exasperated expression. “Bucky…you’re obsessed.”

Bucky jerked his face back, staring down into Steve’s eyes. “I’ve never had a single conversation with you that you haven’t brought up your death. I…I really think you’ve gotta problem.”

“What?” Bucky asked; wincing. The words weren’t meant to hurt, but they cut like knives all the same. To be told he had a problem by the man he _knew_ he was obsessed with− it stung more than lashes from a hooked whip. Bucky could practically feel his skin tearing from his back as he fought the urge to back up and yell at Steve.

“Maybe we could get you to talk to someone,” Steve continued. “It could help.”

“I don’t need a _fucking_ shrink. I just need _you_!”

Steve pulled Bucky into him, crashing him down against the bed. They rest on their sides as their eyes locked. Bucky’s lips parted as he fought the urge to scream at the man before him.

“I can’t lose you, Bucky. You can’t give up.”

“…What?”

Steve’s eyes trailed down Bucky’s body. “I can’t watch you die.”

Bucky sat up. His skin was tingling beneath the surface, like a thousand itches he couldn’t scratch. “But I’m gonna die.”

“Stop!” Steve said. He inhaled deeply, taking a moment to calm himself. “Stop saying that. We’re gonna find out what’s wrong. We’re gonna fix you.”

Steve rolled off the bed, grabbing a urine sample cup from a bin. “Pee in this.”

Bucky’s eyes winced as his upper lip formed into a mix between a snarl and complete astonishment.  “Why?” He’d just wanted to curl into Steve and kiss him till his lips were raw and bleeding.

“Because we need to run tests,” Steve said. “I’m not gonna let you die. You’re gonna have to accept that you’re not dying. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not five years from now. You’re not dying. I won’t let you. How many times do I have to say that before it gets into that fucking, thick skull of yours?”

Bucky shrank in on himself. He sat there, ducking his chin and chewing haphazardly on his bottom lip as he stared at the floor. How could Steve be so sure? Bucky wanted to believe him. He really did. But then Steve would walk away and Bucky would be left alone again. The thought of being alone congealed Bucky’s blood. He hated being alone in this room at night. It was the worst at night. No one was around to talk to and Steve was gone to whatever life he had that he didn’t share with Bucky− that he would never share with Bucky. Bucky only had the soft gurgling of the air conditioner and his thoughts at night. He hated nights.

“I think I need to see a shrink…” Bucky mumbled. “I don’t wanna feel like this anymore.”

Steve shifted his weight. He held out the cup. “Please go pee in the cup. We’ll refer you to a psychologist.”

Bucky looked down at his gown. He was still wearing his semen coated boxers. He slid off the bed, walking toe-to-heel over to Steve. “Kiss me, please.” His voice was desperate. There was the tiniest bit of misery laced into every syllable and vowel.

Steve bent down, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s torso, kissing him deep; sucking Bucky’s lip into his mouth and playfully lapping at it with his tongue. He pulled back, offering a coy smile. “Go pee in the cup,” he said again. “And you’ll get more where that came from.”

Bucky ran into the bathroom. He peeled off his boxers, tossing them into a corner of the shower. He didn’t want Steve to see them if he suddenly went near the bathroom for any reason. He didn’t want Steve to know what he’d done. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of touching himself…it was the fact that he’d touched himself thinking of nothing but Steve.

Now that the seed was planted though, Bucky could think of nothing else. Steve had said he’d pictured Bucky naked. Had Steve touched himself thinking about Bucky? Did Steve fantasize about Bucky the way Bucky fantasized about him?

He finished peeing into the cup, setting it atop the toilet as he smoothed out his gown and washed his hands. Truth be told, he never washed his hands after peeing in the confines of his own home or hospital room, but knowing Steve was right outside that door made him want to be cleaner. He’d feel guilty if suddenly he was running his hands down Steve’s stomach with urine particles or something on him. _‘Is that even a real thing?’_

Bucky came back out, holding the cup to Steve. Steve bent down, placing a chaste kiss atop Bucky’s lips and took the cup.

“You’ve got some hot pee here, son,” Steve teased.

“Ew!” Bucky cried out. “You’re disgusting!”

Steve sported a proud, goofy smile. “Yup. That’s why I’m a doctor. So I can make dirty jokes and get away with it.”

“Liar. You love helping people.” He knew Steve couldn’t see underneath his gown, but the knowledge of just being in a gown and a gown alone was rather exciting to Bucky. He wanted Steve to sit on a chair or the bed so badly. Bucky could climb up on him and they’d start making out like they’d done last night. Perhaps Bucky could even get Steve to take _his_ underwear off as well. “You gonna leave now?”

Steve nodded; pressing his lips together in a silent apology. “Yeah. I need to take this to get tested. Sooner we get you diagnosed the better.”

Bucky sighed. “You’ll come back tonight?”

“I’d love to.” The smile that light up Steve’s face was like the birth of a star. Bucky couldn’t help but stare as his breathing hitched.

“Have dinner with me? And, actually stay to eat this time?” Bucky asked softly; the corners of his mouth tugging into a shy smile.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I got…distracted last night.” He bent down, kissing Bucky on the cheek. “I’ll get your referral ready. You’ll probably start seeing a psychologist tomorrow.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it was twisting in his chest. He knew he was obsessed with the idea of dying. It horrified him to a degree he couldn’t physically stand. He’d suffered panic attacks, cold sweats and had made himself sick just from thinking on it too much. Despite that; despite knowing he was more fixated on dying than he was on living…he didn’t want to stop it. The panic kept a fire in his belly that made him strive to _live._ If it settled Steve though…he’d talk to someone about it. He _was_ going to die. But if Steve felt better then Bucky would feel better.

But he wanted Steve to feel happier, so Bucky would do it for Steve; because Bucky also admitted he was obsessed with Steve.

* * *

 

Steve once again found himself mulling over the events of the day in Stark’s lab as the man continued to work on Bucky’s samples. He’d claimed to mostly have diagnosed the problem with the blood test, but he wanted to be thorough and make sure the infection was isolated. Steve hated that Stark didn’t just tell him what was going on with Bucky. He hated how Stark was making him wait till _everything_ had been tested. Stark said it was because diagnosing something too soon when it really could be something else could lead to killing the patient. Steve didn’t disagree with him. He’d been a perfect example of that once upon a time. However, that just meant Steve would sit here and dwell on the day.

When Bucky came into Peter’s room… Steve was finally faced with the icy cold shock of realization. There were people who were _so close_ to they had to lie to. Peter being one of them. Steve had to lie to Sharon, Sam, Bruce, Hell even Stark. Bucky had to lie to his family. They were lying to everyone around them and it hadn’t even occurred to either of them how close those lies could actually become raw and exposed.

Peter was smart. It was almost disgusting how smart that kid was. If Bucky slipped up even the slightest bit, Peter would know. In the grand scheme of things though, Steve reasoned that Peter knowing was a lot better than Sharon knowing or Bucky’s parents… Bucky’s parents would be the worst case scenario. He’d lose his job if Sharon found out probably, but he’d lose everything if Bucky’s parents found out.

Steve chewed on a fingernail, peaking over Stark’s shoulder. The sooner he knew the diagnosis the sooner he could get back to Bucky…

“I can feel your breath against my neck, Rogers,” Stark stated. There was a very calm warning laced in the statement. Steve backed away, leaning against a metal desk and crossing one leg over the other. “I’m almost finished.”

“How’s James’ breathing?” Stark asked. “Does he wheeze at all?”

“Not from what I can hear,” Steve responded. He was pretty certain Bucky would also tell him if he was having trouble with anything. Bucky was good about coming to his nurses or doctors when a symptom arose.

“So he’s got a fever, a cough, phlegm, had a pericardial effusion with pericarditis.” Tony rolled back in his chair. “You haven’t even considered he has pneumonia?”

Steve’s mouth dropped. “Are you fucking with me?”

Tony shrugged. “You’re not my type. Actually, he’s got healthcare-associated pneumonia. He had pericarditis from his HIGM and that shit-tastic immune system. Being in the hospital gave him the pneumonia.”

Steve wouldn’t say his heart was crushed. He’d describe it as more being ripped from his chest by sharp talons, splayed out in front of him and devoured by ravenous wolves. He’d caused this… This was his fault. Bucky could die from pneumonia! Healthcare-associated pneumonia was when someone was checked into the hospital for something and develops pneumonia while during their stay. Bucky had a terrible immune system and Steve had kissed him…he’d touched him. It was his fault. He’d done this. He’d given Bucky pneumonia.

“Uh,” Tony drawled. “Rogers? Yoo-hoo!”

Steve just continued to stare, his eyes round in frozen fear and guilt as his body continued to lock up on him as the sharp pangs of guilt plagued down into his stomach. “You mean…he could’ve gone home after…”

Tony cocked a brow. “After his procedure? Yeah but you didn’t know. Again, the kid’s gotta really shitty immune system. You should see his white blood cell count. It’s disgusting how low.”

Steve closed his eyes, as he tried to focus on his breathing. He’d done this. He’d walked into that room, placed his lips atop Bucky’s and he’d transferred an illness that he didn’t even know he was carrying. This was entirely, utterly and completely Steve’s fault. He felt like his skin was getting compressed by iron wire; like someone was pulling tighter and tighter till he’d fall into thousands of tiny pieces. He opened his eyes. “I did this.”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “Oh c’mon, Rogers. It could have been any of the staff that sees the kid.”

Steve looked up, his almond eyes were round and glazed with torment. His lips were slack and slightly trembling. “No. I did this.”

He ran from the room.

* * *

 

Bucky felt like he was going to cough up a lung. Despite being on amoxicillin, the cough was getting worse. His fever had died down due to doses of Motrin but he still felt a little hot. His cheeks were slightly pink. He walked out of the bathroom, staring out into the dark sky. Steve should be here soon. It was already half-past seven. He’d been off work for thirty minutes already… _‘Wonder if he’s working on my lab results?’_

Bucky wore a fresh gown and no underwear. The idea of swinging his legs over Steve and lightly rolling his hips so Steve would look was more than alluring− it was mind-numbingly intoxicating. Bucky reveled in the idea of Steve looking at his naked form. He shivered at the idea of Steve’s fingers grazing against his inner thigh, the base of his cock…his−

Steve barged in. He wore a mask and gloves. Bucky creased his brow in perplexity. “Is there a zombie outbreak and I don’t know about it yet? I’m really good at headshots,” Bucky stated. He coughed lightly as he did his best to try to stifle it. He watched as Steve’s ocean-blues winced.

“I got your results back.”

Bucky’s vision tunneled. He heard the angry sounds of roaring wind as blood rushed to every corner of his body. He felt the tips of his fingers go numb. “A-and?” he asked in a brittle tone. Bucky scanned over the mask, the gloves, the scrub shoes… Steve was encased in a protective layer and Bucky was…

_‘I’m gonna die…’_

“You’ve got pneumonia.”

Bucky felt his lungs collapse as his pipes squeezed. He wheezed several times, his breathing getting faster and faster as he faltered and fell to the floor. He grabbed at his throat, tearing at it as his vision blurred. _‘I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…’_ Tears spilled from his eyes as he tried to choke out a gurgled sob.

Steve was in front of him, or at least he thought it was Steve. It was a blur of navy blue and blonde. It had to be Steve. Steve was the only one in the room. _‘I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!’_ Bucky desperately gasped for air, feeling his throat clutch in on itself as his heart seized in his chest. Steve put something made of plastic in Bucky’s mouth. It puffed out a bitter-tasting moisture. Bucky continued to gasp and wheeze as his body shivered in desperate spasms.

“Bucky, listen to me,” Steve’s voice said. “Focus on me, baby. Look at me, baby.”

Bucky wanted to shiver at the pet names. He wanted to curl into Steve’s body and tuck his head under that bearded chin. All he could think about was how cold he felt and the dark, murky pit in the back of his mind that was breathing down his throat now. He had pneumonia. He was going to die from pneumonia.

“I don’t- I don’t- I don’t-” Bucky gasped, stuttering over and over again as his wild eyes continued to search the blur in front of him for any sense of familiarity, like blue eyes or that auburn beard. “Feel fine- feel fine- feel fine-”

Steve pressed the inhaler into Bucky’s mouth again. “Breathe this in, baby.”

Bucky’s lungs relaxed as the medication coated them. Bucky grabbed at his throat, gasping heavily as his shoulders rocked. He sobbed loudly, crashing his face into Steve’s collar bone. “Steve!” he cried out. “Please don’t let me die! Please I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, caressing meaningless images into his back. “I won’t let you. I’ll protect you, Bucky.”

Bucky coughed; it was wet and raspy. He swallowed back the phlegm, feeling his gag reflexes flip as the distasteful flavor slid down his throat. “I can’t die yet,” Bucky sobbed. “I can’t die yet! I didn’t get to do so much with you! I haven’t even− I’ve never−”

Steve’s brows knit together as his eyes were enveloped with a doleful expression. “You can, Buck. You still can. I’m not letting you die!”

Bucky tried to pull back, feeling another sob wash over him, shivering his shoulders and running down his spine as his anguish cascaded over him like a tidal wave.

Steve snatched his wrists. “Bucky, listen to me,” Steve said with a firm yet reassuring tone. “You will _not_ die.”

“Take that _fucking_ mask off!” Bucky snarled. He grabbed at the mask before Steve could even object and pulled it till the elastic snapped. It hit the apple of Steve’s cheek; a raised red-mark below his eye formed. “Oh God,” Bucky said as his eyes filled with terror. “Steve, m’so sorry! I didn’t mean− Fuck, Steve m’so sorry!”

Steve hesitantly tested his jaw, rubbing at the mark. “It’s fine, Buck.”

Bucky hadn’t meant to lash out so impulsively. The mask just made him feel plagued and diseased. Doctors wore that kind of stuff when someone was dying… _‘But I am dying…’_ A feeling of cold, hard desperation rushed over Bucky. Everything he saw was but a moment that pushed him closer to his end. He felt encased in a shell; unable to really touch. He’d never felt so alone.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, attempting to press his lips against Steve’s. Steve moved his head out of the way; Bucky couldn’t even place a kiss against his cheek. Bucky swore he could hear his heart crack and shatter. His loneliness escalated. No one could do this for him. It was the most sobering feeling he’d ever had. He knew he would die. He knew he had to face it one day but it wasn’t ever truly real yet. He didn’t know how it’d really be. _He_ and _he_ alone had to experience it. He would be alone. Steve couldn’t die with him. No one could help him. He’d do this alone.

He was petrified.

“Steve, please,” Bucky hiccupped. “Steve please, please don’t leave me tonight. Please I’m gonna go crazy. Please, please don’t leave me!” His voice was on the verge of shrieking. His untamed eyes continued to rampage over Steve’s body, soaking in every last detail, every twitch and gentle dip as he breathed. Bucky couldn’t take this image with him when he died. He’d lose Steve. He’d lose Steve when he died.

“Bucky,” Steve said softly, caressing through Bucky’s brown hair with his gloved hand. Bucky felt like he was in isolation. He hated those gloves. He hated those scrub shoes. He hated knowing he was sick. “I can’t stay…”

Bucky had moved so fast, his vision went black for a moment as his blood pressure adjusted. He’d stood up, spinning around to face Steve once more with rage detailed into every soft curve and hard line of his face. “Am I some game to you? Just something to pass the time when you’re here? Is that all I am to you?”

“What?” Steve flinched. “Bucky, no!”

“I need you! I _need_ you! Please don’t fucking leave me!”

Steve stood up. “Bucky, you need to lower your voice.”

“No!” Bucky shouted. His throat protested as pain began to bubble in the back of his throat. He’d throw his voice out if he had to. He was getting his point across. He couldn’t be alone. “Fuck you! You don’t get to come in here wearing all that and tell me I’m dyin’! You don’t get to drop that bomb on me and just leave!”

“Bucky,” Steve said softly. “Please lower your voice. They can _hear_ you.” He held his hands out cautiously as he inched toward Bucky.

Bucky backed up, pressing himself against the small sink in the room. “Fuck you, Steve! You’d stay all night with Peter and no one gave a shit! I ask you to stay with me and you say you can’t? Do you love him? Am I just some casual side piece for your sick hospital fantasy?!”

“Bucky!” Steve snapped. “Keep your _fucking_ voice down!”

“Fuck you!” Bucky’s vision blurred again. He dropped to his knees, wailing once more as sobs plagued his body. “I need you,” he whined coarsely. “I need you and you won’t even touch me…”

Steve got on his knees before Bucky. “You didn’t have pneumonia before the pericardial effusion. Your stay here gave it to you. I probably gave it to you. I can’t risk touching you.” His voice was gentle again. Bucky wanted nothing more than to ride the soft sound waves of that baritone into the night’s sky.

“But you’re not sick,” Bucky stated; sniffling.

“I don’t need to be. You typically catch it by breathing. I could have…breathed on you wrong and you got it. Germs travel in a hospital.”

“Anyone could have breathed on me. This hospital is full of people breathing, Steve,” Bucky spat. “Please don’t make me feel like I’m diseased. Just take the fucking gloves off.”

Steve’s face was taut, but he obeyed Bucky. Bucky listened to the _thwick_ as Steve pulled the gloves off and tossed them into the trash. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Bucky. “You’re not diseased,” he stated. He continued to stare at Bucky with a heavy gaze. “You’re not dying.”

Bucky bit his lip.

“I’m gonna make you better.”

“Steve,” Bucky whined in a pitchy tone. He collapsed into Steve as they tangled into each other on the tiled floor. Bucky’s lips crashed against Steve’s. He felt the rough pricks of Steve’s beard as he desperately deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Steve’s mouth zealously. His hands clung to Steve’s shoulder blades as he struggled to spread his legs and straddle Steve; kneeling on either side of him.

Steve groaned. It was animalistic− from the back of his throat but it made Bucky’s skin shiver as if it was the most pleasing sound in the world. Steve bit at Bucky’s lower lip, pulling it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, leaving a shining, wet oval on Bucky’s chin.

“I need you,” Bucky whined. “Steve I need you. I need you.” He feverishly continued to kiss Steve, planting loud kisses against the side of Steve’s eye, the apple of his cheek, down his beard and against his lips. Bucky’s fingers were trembling as he bunched up the fabric around Steve’s shoulder blades. “I need this off of you _now_.” He didn’t want to feel alone anymore. He needed to be as physically close to Steve as possible. It was foolish and probably too rushed but Bucky couldn’t take feeling like he was in a plastic casing to be on display but to never be touched. He needed to be touched.

Steve pulled back. His eyes were wide and strained. “You’re sick though.”

It hadn’t been meant maliciously. Bucky knew Steve only had his best interest at heart but the statement made Bucky feel unworthy, or like he wasn’t strong enough to do this. “I need you to touch me, Steve. I need it so bad, I can’t _take_ it.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a brief smile. “Y-you sure?”

Bucky led Steve’s hand against his bare cock, allowing the man to ghost his fingers over it as he explored how hard Bucky was. “Please touch me, Steve,” Bucky whined. “Just fucking touch me.”

“Not on the floor,” Steve said. He pulled Bucky up, holding his hand as he led him over to the hospital bed. Steve took the guardrail off. Bucky laughed as he watched. Steve’s movements were frantic and desperate. He looked more like he’d pulled the guardrail off its screws than properly dismounting it; perhaps he had. Steve looked strong enough to do it.

Steve turned around, picking Bucky up and swinging Bucky’s legs around his torso. Bucky yelped, but his mouth was silenced by Steve’s wet, loud kisses. He spun Bucky around once, twice; Bucky wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his heart was soaring. He’d forgotten his ailments, he’d forgotten his mortality. It was just Steve. Everything and anything that had ever existed was Steve. Bucky’s body lived for Steve’s touch, he ached to feel that tongue slip into his mouth and greet his own. He breathed to feel Steve’s hands holding his body up. The only sensation Bucky ever needed was the rush of being crashed down onto the hospital bed as Steve’s mouth hungrily attacked at Bucky’s jaw line, lapping and sucking down his throat and over the jugular. Steve groaned as he bit down against the soft flesh of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky gasped, instinctively jerking his throat away from Steve.

Steve was instantly pulling himself up, staring down at Bucky with round, cautious eyes. “Did that hurt too much? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!”

Bucky laughed, pulling Steve back down on him. He traced Steve’s lips with his tongue. “S’okay,” he mumbled. “Just keep touching me.”

Steve’s hands ripped at Bucky’s hospital gown, pulling at the thin fabric and roughly removing it. Bucky shivered as cold air surged against his heated skin. He didn’t get a chance to think about how… _vulnerable_ he’d feel displayed like this. Steve sat back as his blue eyes drank up every curve, dip and gentle line of Bucky’s body. “You’re gorgeous,” he stated. “Bucky you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He ran his index fingers from around Bucky’s chest and down to his Adonis lines. He bent down, kissing at Bucky’s hip bones, and lightly nipped at them.

Bucky arched his back, pushing his head back into the pillow. The back of his throat started to tickle. _‘Not now, not now, not now.’_

Steve licked up from Bucky’s hips to his bellybutton, swirling his tongue around the navel and dipping it inside and curling it up. Bucky couldn’t stop the cough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow, looking up desperately with fearful eyes. He didn’t want to stop. He prayed Steve didn’t want to stop. They’d come this far. Bucky couldn’t stop. He was so close. He didn’t want to die before ever being with Steve like this!

Steve’s brow furrowed; displaying that adorable crinkle in the middle of his brows. “You okay?”

“Fine. Keep touching,” Bucky mumbled. He rocked his hips for good measure as he drew Steve’s attention back down.

Bucky should have been nervous. He’d never been touched by another person like this before but everything was so…easy. It was like Steve’s body had been designed for this very moment and Bucky’s designed for his. They fit together in a way Bucky had never known people could. Bucky wasn’t scared. He didn’t fear the pain of potential penetration, he didn’t fear the insecurity of being naked before Steve. He embraced it all. He’d never felt more alive.

Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s torso, thumbing over the boy’s soft, pink nipples and swirling his thumbs, testing the sensitivity. “Let me know if something feels good,” he stated.

Bucky bit his lip, tugging at the flesh as he arched into the touch. “Feels good,” he breathed out. “

Steve displayed a sly smile. He pinched at Bucky’s nipples, twisting lightly before covering the agitated flesh with his mouth; sucking gently and flicking his tongue out teasingly.

Bucky didn’t know he could feel like this. His cock was aching, sending literal _shockwaves_ into his thighs and lower abdomen. His chest was ablaze; aching and pleading for Steve to keep touching him. “Steve,” he whined out. “Steve please more.”

Steve placed a string of wet, sloppy kisses from one nipple to the next. Bucky giggled softly as Steve’s beard tickled at his skin. Steve swirled his tongue around the pink nipple, lightly tugging with his teeth before closing his lips around it. He used one arm to lean against; supporting most of his weight, but the other hand was free to roam. It pinched at Bucky’s other nipple, fingering over it lightly before dusting down Bucky’s abs. “You’re so soft,” he breathed against Bucky’s skin. He pulled back, staring into Bucky’s eyes so deep, Bucky was sure he’d seized his soul and yanked it out. “You’re not gonna die.”

Bucky’s face drained of color.

“I swear, Bucky. We’re gonna do this from every night on till the day _I_ die. Not you.”

Bucky offered a weak smile. “You’re gonna be with me forever?” The question was entirely loaded and it probably wasn’t justified, but Bucky’s head was murky with lust and desperation. He was desperate to keep this man in his life as long as his body would let him.

Steve laughed. Bucky loved when Steve blushed. He could see the blood rush up his throat and into those cheeks, beard or not. “Gonna be with you as long as you want me.”

“Take off your shirt,” Bucky requested. “And your pants?”

Steve laughed. He stood up; grabbing the hem of his shirt with both hands as he slowly pulled the shirt up, swaying his hips to extend his abdomen muscles.

Bucky licked at his lips, watching as those muscles rippled and swayed with Steve’s movements.

He tugged at his scrub pants’ draw string, looking up with a cocked brow and a sly smile. “You want these off?”

Bucky laughed. “Don’t tease me!”

“I’m not teasing! I’m asking a question!”

Bucky nodded, licking at his lips again. “I want ‘em off.”

Steve slipped his pants down a bit, exposing the deep lines that flowed into his dick. “All the way off?”

“Steve!”

“I’m just seeking clarification!” Steve taunted. “I mean, you could just want them off a little bit…” He turned around, dropping his scrubs just below his ass cheeks. Bucky’s mouth dropped open. He knew Steve had a good ass, but he didn’t expect the muscles to be so defined, or the large dimples that deepened when he shifted his weight; flexing his muscles. Bucky wanted to reach out and grab it. Steve turned back around. “So, all the way? Or just that?”

“I wanna see all of you,” Bucky said softly, pulling his legs up to cover his erection.

Steve grimaced. “Nn-nn,” he began. “If you’re seeing all of me…” He pulled Bucky’s legs down, taking Bucky’s cock into his hand for a moment and giving it the most gentle of squeezes. “I get to see all of you.”

Bucky gasped, feeling his heart spin in his chest as elation filled him. Nothing scared him right now. Not the idea of Steve seeing his naked body, not the door that could open at any moment, and not the cough that kept creeping back up his throat. Steve was his and his alone. Steve was doing everything to make Bucky feel good. Bucky was starting to believe Steve Rogers. Maybe he could save Bucky’s life. Maybe. Bucky wasn’t taking any leaps of faith here.

“Take your fucking pants off, Doc!” Bucky protested in a pitchy whine. “I wanna see you.”

Steve laughed, pulling his legs out of the scrubs one at a time. His black briefs were tight against his thighs. Bucky could see the outline of his erection. _‘God he’s huge….’_

“Those too.”

Steve played with the hem. “You sure?” He smacked the fabric against his lower abdomen. “I think I look pretty good just like this.”

“I swear to the ever-loving _God_ , Steve, if you don’t take those off I’ll come over there and rip them off.”

Steve shrugged. “I mean, you could _try_.”

Bucky was up, running naked toward Steve. Steve picked him up, wrapping his legs around his middle again and clashing their lips together. Bucky’s hands fought to reach the waistband of Steve’s briefs as his tongue lulled into Steve’s mouth. He moaned into the kiss, rocking his hips and letting the tip of his cock graze against the outlines of Steve’s tight abs. Shivers ran down his spine as the light sensation pulsated from the tip of his dick into the very core of his body.

Steve gently placed Bucky back on the bed, rolling his hips. Bucky could feel the outline of Steve’s erection against his ass. For a small moment, fear tingled in the base of his spine. He’d never done any of this before. It had been so natural, like leaves falling from a tree. Everything was just falling into place, but Bucky was more than aware of anal sex and the fact that it could hurt the first time. He wasn’t scared of the pain…just the uncertainty of how much it _would_ hurt.

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky asked, breaking the kiss. His face was staring to hurt from the friction of Steve’s beard.

Steve pulled back. “Shit, no.”

Bucky grabbed at Steve’s hand. “I-it’s okay. We don’t need one.”

“Bucky…” Steve said in that fatherly-tone he used when scolding Bucky.

“Steve…I’m not gonna be around long enough to fuck a bunch of guys.” He shrugged. “And even if I was…” He pushed Steve back, slinking his body atop Steve and straddling him against the bed. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Steve relaxed, running his hands up and down Bucky’s chest and stomach. “I think it’s really irresponsible though.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I have pneumonia…we’re already being irresponsible. You could get it you know.”

Steve nodded. “I know.”

“Don’t you have a shitty immune system?”

“Yes.”

“Then you could already have it cause of me,” Bucky mumbled, feeling his heart weigh heavy in his chest.

“You’re worth the risk.”

Bucky let out a feather-light laugh. “Steve…” No matter how many years, days, hours he had left, they would never be enough to ever tire of Steve Rogers. Bucky fell further and further into obsession, love, lust, whatever it was called, each and every second Steve was in his life. Bucky could live five lifetimes and never get enough of Steve Rogers.

“I wanna make love to you, Bucky,” Steve said. “I also wanna do ridiculously dirty things with you, but I mostly wanna make love to you.”

“Well,” Bucky began. He rolled his hips into Steve, slowly and forcefully. “We’ve got every night till the day you die.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathed out, rocking his hips up as he matched Bucky’s rhythm. “I really want out of my briefs now.”

Bucky laughed. He spun around on Steve, pulling at the underwear and sliding them down. He yelped as he felt something press against his asshole.

“I’m sorry!” Steve gasped. “You just…I mean you did that intentionally right?”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

Steve rolled his neck. “Put your ass in my face, Bucky,” he said; laughing lightly. “You’ll like it.”

Bucky rolled his lips in, licking at them nervously before doing as instructed. Steve kneeled behind him, grabbing at his hips and pulling his rear closer.

“What do I do now?” Bucky asked.

“Get comfortable,” Steve said, pressing a few kisses against the dimples of Bucky’s ass. “You can drop your head into the bed or just stay on all fours. Whatever’s easier.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Bucky asked, still craning his neck to see what Steve was doing.

“I’m gonna touch you. Like you wanted,” Steve responded; shrugging. “You comfortable?”

Bucky dropped his head against the bed, using his arms as an additional pillow so his neck had more support. “Yeah.” At first, nothing was happening, which only made his heart start to thump erratically in his chest, but any momentary worry was replaced with the flowing current of pleasure as Steve licked at Bucky’s hole, swirling his tongue along the grooved lines of the muscle and pressing in softly.

Bucky gasped, “Oh God! Feel’s good, feels’s good.” He rolled his face into his arms, moaning into them each time Steve would lap at his entrance, curling his tongue and flattening it back out to swirl around inside Bucky again. Bucky rocked back, rolling his hips as Steve’s wet, hot tongue penetrated him from behind.

“Remember when I said I wanna do dirty stuff too?” Steve asked before circling his tongue once more against Bucky’s asshole.

“Ahh,” Bucky moaned softly. “Yeah….that was all of five seconds ago.”

Steve didn’t comment on the sass. He flipped Bucky over, spreading his legs out and going back to eating him out.

Bucky gasped as Steve grabbed at his cock as well, stroking from the base to the top; using his palm to rub over the tip. “Oh fuck, _fuck_ ,” Bucky whined. “Steve! S’good, s’good!” He rolled his head from side to side, feeling his insides being gently caressed by Steve’s hot tongue as it explored over each gentle dip or soft curve of Bucky’s ass. Bucky curled his toes; squeezing his leg muscles as he did his best not to slam his legs shut.

Steve stoked at Bucky’s cock, up and down, twirling his wrist to fist fuck as much of Bucky as he could from this position. He pushed his face further into Bucky’s ass, rubbing his beard against his cheeks roughly  as his tongue slipped deeper inside, lapping at the soft divots of Bucky’s asshole.

Bucky’s body had never felt so hot before. Each time Steve stroked up his cock, he’d massage his thumb in soft, circular motions  from the base and up, slipping it over the slit of his cock, smearing any precome that had built there around the head before sliding back down to repeat its soft caresses.

Bucky’s hand had pleased him well enough, but Steve’s tongue far up his ass, exploring every secret Bucky’s body had left, Steve’s hand sliding up and down against Bucky’s cock; it was enough to make Bucky want to scream. Every nerve in his body was thrumming with electric pulsations as those shockwaves in his abdomen continued to pulsate with Steve’s rhythm. “Steve!” Bucky whined. “Ste-eve, St-eve, fuck, oh my God baby, please, _please_.”  Bucky rocked back against Steve’s face, scratching his beard against his ass cheeks. He rolled into Steve’s tongue, moaning softly, “Fuck me, fuck, fuck me, Steve, Ste-e-ve-e, ah-ah!”

A light sweat shimmered off Bucky’s body as his fever rekindled, supplemented by Steve’s hand swirling around his cock and that hot tongue burying itself deep inside Bucky’s ass. He’d be worried, except he didn’t care about anything except how Steve’s taste buds created the softest friction inside him, or how Steve’s thumb would swirl at the tip of his cock before going to stroke at the underside, just below the tip. Bucky’s fingers were twitching as he desperately searched for something to grab onto. He settled for the bed sheets, pulling them into his fists as he continued to splay his legs out wide, spreading his ass as much as he could so Steve could get deeper and lap harder against him.

Bucky’s limbs started to shake as his whimpers turned to desperate cries. His body felt like he was floating above the bed; being carried by the ecstasy Steve was providing him. Sex felt so good. Bucky never wanted this feeling to stop. He never wanted to feel far away from Steve ever again. “Steve, Steve,” he cried softly. He pushed his ass against Steve’s face, earning himself a pronounced swirl of Steve’s tongue inside him. “Ah! Ah! Fuck, Steve! Fuck!”

Steve pulled back, pulling a high-pitched whimper from Bucky. “We’re not done,” Steve said with an impish grin.

Bucky’s eyes were glazed over as the feeling of Steve’s hand and tongue slipped away from his body. His legs shook at the lack of pleasure. “Steve,” he cried. “Steve please keep touching me.”

Steve laughed darkly. “Oh I’m gonna.” He pulled Bucky around him, wrapping the boy’s legs around his abdomen. Steve enveloped Bucky’s lips, shoving his tongue inside Bucky’s mouth. Bucky winced, tasting himself on Steve. It wasn’t what he’d expected (being literal shit-tasting…) but it was bitter and the tiniest bit salty.

Steve pushed his erection against Bucky’s, sliding it up and down against the boy’s.

Bucky shivered at the light contact. “Ah, ah fuck!”

Steve laughed, pressing another kiss against Bucky’s lips. “You make the cutest sounds,” he growled.

“I wanna hear yours,” Bucky panted.

“You will,” Steve said. He grabbed his own cock, pushing it up against Bucky’s and began jacking them both off at the same time, rolling his hips so his erection would slide up and down against Bucky’s.

Bucky dropped his head against Steve’s shoulder, moaning incoherently. “Nnnn, nnnnn!” It felt so good when Steve’s tip would graze against his. Steve continued stroking, pumping up and down and swirling his fingers as much as he could to get both of their erections.

Steve began panting against Bucky’s ear. He nipped at the earlobe. His breath would hitch when Bucky’s tip would slip up against his. “Fuck, Bucky,” Steve moaned softly. “I need you too.”

Bucky laughed against Steve’s shoulder. He kissed at the crook of Steve’s neck, nibbling lightly; uncertain how hard to bite or what was considered not enough. By the way Steve’s head moved to the side, Bucky assumed he was doing something right. He rocked his hips in tune with Steve’s, feeling his erection graze against Steve’s, feeling the veins in his lover’s cock rub against his own. “Steve,” he gasped. “Steve, more.”

Steve pushed Bucky back onto the bed. He kissed down the boy’s face, stopping at the cleft of his chin. “Don’t move.”

Steve hopped from the bed, padding over to a drawer and pulling out a bottle of petroleum jelly. “It’s not the best…but…” he shrugged. “You’ll be fine.”

Bucky licked at his lips, watching as Steve’s red, swollen erection swung as he walked. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure he could fit all that inside him… “Please go slow,” he mumbled.

Steve lay to Bucky’s side, pressing a gentle kiss against one of his eyelids. “I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

Bucky laughed. “I love how you threw in, “intentionally.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Well, I may have given you pneumonia so…there’s that.”

Bucky scoffed. “You didn’t. Steve germs are the only germs I’m one-hundred percent immune to.”

Steve pressed a kiss against Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s not how it works…but we’re gonna go with that because it’s cute.” He pressed another kiss against the soft curve of Bucky’s shoulder. “And you’re cute.”

Bucky let Steve spread his legs. He casually folded one leg, letting it balance up, but the other was against the bed. Steve coated his finger with the jelly. “This is gonna be cold,” he warned.

“I feel like I’m on fire,” Bucky stated. “Cold’s good.”

“If you ever need me to stop−”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted. “I swear to God, can you just stop being a doctor for like…five minutes?”

Steve pressed a soft kiss against Bucky’s lips. “I’m not being a doctor right now.” He tugged at Bucky’s bottom lip, running his tongue over it. “I’m being a good boyfriend.”

Bucky shivered at the words; savoring every syllable that fell from Steve’s mouth. This was what it was like to have a boyfriend. This was what it was like to feel cared for and loved.

_‘I’m alive.’_

Steve slipped one, cold finger inside Bucky’s ass, pushing slowly and curving it ever so slightly to conform to Bucky’s body.

Bucky gasped, pushing his head back into the pillow. “Fuck that _is_ cold,” he breathed out.

Steve laughed, pressing a few, tiny kisses along Bucky’s jaw. “Lemme know if you need me to stop.”

Bucky glared at him. “Shut up and kiss me you dick.”

Steve slipped his lips against Bucky’s once more, brushing his beard against Bucky’s chin as his mouth opened to envelop Bucky’s. He continued to pump his finger, leisurely, inside Bucky, swirling it to stretch the muscle.

Bucky arched his back, feeling his cock twitch as the stimulation spread out from his ass, seeping into every pore of his body and nestling against him as if it belonged; permanently. He circled his tongue around Steve’s, gasping into his lover’s mouth as Steve would push his finger back inside. Each time Steve would pull out, there was a tiny moment where Bucky would feel empty. He pushed his ass against Steve’s finger. “More,” he breathed.

Steve slipped another finger in, moving it at a snail’s pace as he kissed down Bucky’s throat, circling his Adam’s apple with his tongue. “ _Steve_ ,” Bucky moaned. “More.” It wasn’t hurting. None of it had hurt yet. Perhaps Steve’s tongue had loosened him up some? Bucky was pretty sure this was supposed to hurt the first time.

Steve moved his fingers quicker, pushing them as deep as he could before swirling them around inside of Bucky.

Bucky yelped when Steve began scissoring his fingers inside him. “Feel’s good,” he mumbled, rocking his ass back into Steve’s fingers. “Keep kissin’ me.”

Steve laughed. “You’re so demanding,” he breathed against Bucky’s throat before pressing a soft kiss against the pulse.

“You’re just now figuring this out?” Bucky teased. “Deeper.”

Steve acquiesced, pushing his fingers as deep as they could go; down to the knuckles, curling down to stroke at Bucky’s prostate.

Bucky lurched, yelping as his eyes went wide. “Fuck!” he screamed out. “Wha- what’re you doin’?”

Steve laughed. “Your prostate gland. Some men find it pleasurable to have touched. Like you.”

“Do you?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded. “Mhm. If you want, you can do it to me sometime.”

Bucky’s heart warmed as he rolled his head back, gasping as Steve continued to thrust his fingers inside Bucky, caressing over the gland and pulling tiny whimpers from the boy. “Nnnn,” he whined. “M-more. I want you in me.”

“You’re not ready yet,” Steve said. “Trust me, baby.”

Bucky groaned, rolling his head back against the pillow. “Please, Steve, _please_ , fuck me now. I need it. I need it!” His pleas were desperate. He frantically kissed at Steve’s lips, trying to get atop the larger man.

Steve brought up his other hand, holding Bucky to his side. “Trust me, Bucky. You’re not ready.” He offered a warm smile in an attempt to settle the brunette.

Bucky whined, looking down at his aching cock. The tip was shiny with precome and he couldn’t decide if it was a shade of red or purple at this point. “Please, hurry.”

Steve laughed softly, pressing another kiss against Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s not how you make love.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “We have tomorrow for making love! Fuck me, Doc!”

Steve pulled his fingers out, adding a third and pressing in slowly.

“Ah! Fuck! St-eve! Nnn, it burns,” Bucky cried out. He tried to pull away but Steve held him down with his free hand.

“Relax,” Steve said softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Bucky’s lips. “It’ll stop hurting. I told you that you weren’t ready.”

Bucky felt a twinge of embarrassment curl around his heart, tucking it lightly behind his lungs as he fought to keep breathing. “I don’t know what I’m doin’,” he admitted.

Steve laughed. “I know. S’why I’m here.”

His ass burned from the intrusion of the additional digit, forcing his muscles to clamp around the fingers. He gasped as Steve pushed a bit further in him. His muscles clenched once more as if they were trying to shut Steve out. He whined against himself, stretching out his legs more to see if it’d help relieve some of the pain. He coughed, which sent a _zing_ of pain up his ass and into his brain stem. Hissing, he pulled back violently. Steve didn’t stop him this time.

He turned over, coughing into his hand, hearing the crackling sounds of phlegm building in the back of his throat. Embarrassment flooded his features as he tried to pull in on himself. Steve ran two fingers up and down Bucky’s back, offering a tissue with the other. “Don’t you dare swallow it,” Steve warned.

Bucky took the tissue, spitting into it and crumbling it. He tossed it to the floor. He’d grab it later. He could feel the cool, petroleum jelly against his back as it left small trails against his skin. _‘At least he didn’t hand me a tissue with fingers that’d been up my ass…’_

“I’ll bet that was just the best turn on ever,” he spat. He hated how he couldn’t go a single hour without remembering what he was. Everything had been so beautiful up to this point. He’d given himself completely to Steve. He was sharing a bond that he’d never experienced with another human and he had to go off and get pneumonia.

Steve turned Bucky back to face him. “I’m a doctor… How many times do I have to remind you that?”

“I guess always once more?” Bucky said, formulating the statement as more of a question; allowing a soft, uncertain smile to tug at the curves of his lips.

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes lightly. “Spread your legs again,” he ordered.

Bucky did as he was told. Steve slipped two fingers inside with ease. Bucky gasped. He wrapped one leg high around Steve’s torso as they lay side-by side.

“I’m gonna try a third one again, okay?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded; licking at his lips as he looked over his shoulder to watch.

Steve bunched his fingers together; like a triangle as he slowly pushed back inside. Bucky’s muscles protested again, searing and attempting to clamp down. He winced as a small whine escaped the back of his throat. “Hurts,” he mumbled. “Fuck, Steve I’m sorry.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s lips, whispering against them, “Don’t be. You’re a virgin. It’s expected.”

Bucky hated that word. Virgin… Yes he was a virgin but he always would picture a woman in blue instead of a person who’d just neglected to have sex so far in life. He wondered how many boys his age had had sex. “Fuck!” he yelped, being pulled from his thoughts. Steve had pushed further inside, twisting his fingers from side to side as he continued to push them carefully.

“You’re doing great, baby,” Steve cooed. “I’m almost at my knuckles.”

Bucky bit down on his lip, squeezing one eye shut as Steve continued to flick his wrist as he twisted his fingers inside Bucky. Steve pressed down; dipping against Bucky’s prostate and swirling over it, pulling a long, pitchy moan from Bucky’s lips. “Steve!” Bucky gasped. “I like it. Fuck, Steve I like it.”

Steve continued to pump his fingers inside, careful to slowly stretch them out and pull them apart inside Bucky, stretching out his hole. He kissed at Bucky’s lips, tracing his lips with his tongue. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

Bucky didn’t want to hear how good he was doing. He wanted to hear deep, guttural moans flowing from his lover. He wanted to feel what it was like to be grabbed from behind and fucked over a table. They’d get there one day. Steve was clearly more concerned with proving how much he cared about Bucky over how much he cared about showing off his good sex moves. Bucky was _absolutely_ sure he had them, considering that stunt earlier with jacking them both off and the rimming… Bucky shivered.

Steve pulled back grabbing the jelly again and coating his fingers more. He brought them down to his dick, stroking it a few times.

“No wait!” Bucky blurted.

Steve looked up, his face was mostly unreadable, but Bucky could see the adoration that glinted behind those blue hues. “I wanna do that.”

Steve offered the jar to Bucky as he dipped his finger in and pulled out a small scoop. He wrapped his fingers around Steve’s cock, slowly stroking and swirling the jelly against Steve’s bare dick.

Steve moaned, rolling his head back. “Mmmm, Buck,” Steve breathed out. Bucky smiled; feeling accomplished. He continued to pump at Steve’s cock, swirling the jelly around its entirety. He brought his index finger to Steve’s slit, pressing down and swirling a few times there. “F-fuck! Bucky,” Steve moaned. “That feels good, baby.”

“I’ll bet my ass’ll feel better,” he teased. He wrapped his one leg around Steve’s torso higher so he could spread out his ass as much as possible.

Steve laughed, pulling Bucky’s hand away from his cock. He pressed a quick kiss against Bucky’s lips. “I’ll bet you it does. Lie on your back.”

Bucky moved, pressing his head back up against the pillows once more. Steve put Bucky’s legs over his shoulders. “It’s easier this way. We can switch positions once you’re feeling up to it.”

Bucky nodded, feeling his heart start to squeeze from anticipation. The third finger had felt like a burning sensation. If that’s how this would feel, Bucky felt he could take it, or at least withstand it for the most part till it got better.

Steve lined up his cock, pressing into Bucky gently as he slowly thrust forward, enveloping his cockhead. Bucky’s back arched as a stinging sensation shot from his core up to his eyeballs. He grabbed at his pillow as his eyes watered and bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming.

Steve’s face squeezed as he noticed the tears in Bucky’s eyes. “I can stop.”

“N-no,” Bucky whispered; if he spoke any louder he’d start to cry. He felt like someone was taking a saw to his ass and slicing inside him. “If I don’t do this now I’ll never do it again.”

Steve’s lips parted as he froze. “Bucky…”

“I need to, Steve!” Bucky stated, his voice cracking as a tear slid from his eye. “I don’t wanna die without this.”

Steve blinked; clearing the apprehension and confusion he’d sported in those crystal-blue orbs. He nodded softly. He pulled back, slowly thrusting his cockhead inside again.

Bucky allowed a low, long whimper to escape his throat as he continued to clutch at the pillows below his head. “God! Fuck, Steve it hurts.”

“I know , baby,” Steve whispered. He pressed tiny kisses up and down one of Bucky’s legs as it rested over his shoulder. “I swear it gets better.”

Bucky nodded tightly. He could feel his muscles spasm inside him, pushing with all their might to get Steve out of him. He gasped for air, trying hard not to start crying.

Steve kept kissing his leg. “Try to relax, baby.”

“I can’t,” Bucky cried. “I don’t know how.”

Steve pulled out.

Bucky’s stomach churned as his legs were being lowered from Steve’s shoulders. “What’re you doing?” he asked tightly.

Steve offered a small half-smile. “Gonna teach you how to relax. Lie on your tummy.”

Bucky flipped over. Steve straddled Bucky, sitting atop, just below his ass. He brought his hands down against Bucky’s shoulders, pushing into the muscles soothingly and pulling his fingers down on either side of his spine. He kneaded into Bucky’s lower back, washing away the ghosting sensation of stings and aches from moments before. Bucky giggled. “A massage?”

“Not really,” Steve said. “I just wanted to start it that way. And don’t make this weird. Cause it’s about to get weird.”

“Huh?”

Steve spread Bucky’s ass cheeks again, taking his thumbs and pulling the opening apart. Bucky’s muscles instantly fought against the sensation, clamping as hard as they could. “Your body is programmed to think you’re pushing something out. You’ve got to learn how to hold something in.”

Bucky felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Steve was literally...teaching…he wasn’t kidding about this getting weird. “Steve,” Bucky whispered. “This is weird.”

Steve laughed. “Just follow what I say. I swear this’ll be worth it.”

Bucky sighed, burying his face in the pillow. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Steve slipped his thumbs inside, pushing them against the caverns of Bucky’s entrance. He pulled them out like that, stretching out the hole. “I can only do so much. If you don’t relax, your muscles’ll keep pushing me out and this will be the last thing you ever wanna do again.”

Bucky turned his head to the side. “What do I do?” he asked, resigning himself. Steve was making a point, he just hated that he had to have this kind of a lesson. He thought this was all automatic; that bodies just responded because they had some form of carnal knowledge the brain didn’t.

“Let your muscles go slack, literally stop holding them in,” Steve said as he pushed a finger inside Bucky, thrusting it in and out slowly.

Bucky let his whole body go slack. He suppressed a soft moan as Steve swirled his finger inside his hole.

“I’m gonna use three fingers again, okay?” Steve warned.

“Mkay,” Bucky said; closing his eyes.

Steve pressed the fingers inside, holding them as close together as he possibly could. Bucky felt his muscles clamp again. He fought against the instinct, trying to keep everything as loose and still as possible. It wasn’t pleasurable at this point, but he was starting to understand how he had to handle his body.

“You’re doing it, baby,” Steve said. He pulled his fingers out, pressing a kiss against a dimple on Bucky’s lower back. “Now flip over again.”

Bucky did as instructed; wrapping his legs around Steve’s middle. “I wanna be like this.”

Steve shrugged a single shoulder. “Mkay.” He reached over to the petroleum jelly again. Bucky watched with guarded eyes as Steve coated himself once more. He licked at his lips, watching Steve stroke himself. His face was void of any indication that he was pleasuring himself, which made Bucky all-the-more turned on. Steve didn’t want his hand to make him feel good. Steve wanted Bucky’s body for that. It was the biggest, silent compliment Bucky had ever received, and Bucky had no idea if Steve had even meant it or not.

“You ready to try again?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. He wanted this. He wanted Steve to be so deep inside him they’d become practically the same person. He wanted that deep, intimate connectivity with Steve. It was the only way to shatter the sobering feeling of his mortality. He wanted to surround himself with the shroud of security Steve offered.

Steve pressed his cock at Bucky’s entrance, circling it around slowly. Bucky’s head fell back as he moaned out a low approving sound

Steve sucked his lips in, pressing them hard and sliding them out. Bucky reached up, touching those swollen, red lips. Steve’s eyes flashed with a light sparkle of approval as he pushed himself gently, slowly into Bucky again.

Bucky’s mouth rounded as he whimpered out, “Oh! Oh God, Steve, Steve I− I−”

“Relax,” Steve cooed, pressing a kiss against the corner of Bucky’s eye. “Let your body go loose.”

Bucky felt his muscles recoil from around Steve; he shivered as a warming sensation started to bubble in his abdomen. “M-more,” he whispered.

Steve slid further in, pumping back and forth slowly as he worked to stretch the muscles around his cock. “Jesus, Bucky,” he breathed out. “You feel so good.”

Bucky’s face heated as he cast his eyelashes over his eyes, feeling embarrassed but he sported a shy smile. “More.” The pain wasn’t gone, but he didn’t feel like someone was sawing him in two anymore. It was more of a dull burn that faded each time Steve pushed the tiniest bit further in after pulling back. Bucky squeezed his legs around Steve, reaching his arms up to wrap around Steve’s neck.

Steve lifted Bucky completely off the bed as he folded his legs underneath himself so he could rock up easier. “Bucky,” he groaned lightly. “Fuck, Bucky you feel so good.”

Bucky mouthed at Steve’s beard, flicking his tongue out to tickle at the bristles.

Steve laughed in response, closing one eye as the other glazed over from what Bucky assumed was the pleasure he was giving Steve. It’d never occurred to Bucky how good he could make Steve feel. He’d been so preoccupied on Steve touching _him_ but right now, all he wanted was to make sure Steve felt as good as Bucky felt. He rocked against Steve, pulling far enough away that Steve’s cockhead threatened to fall out before rolling back against him.

Steve gasped. “Ah! Fuck,” he whispered, kissing against Bucky’s throat in a soft fervor.

“More, Steve,” Bucky whispered, lapping at the blonde’s ear. “Your dick is so good.”

Steve laughed in his throat. “Oh yeah?”

Bucky nodded, thrusting up slowly, shivering as his spine tingled; carrying up the pleasure Steve was giving him as he continued to slowly open Bucky up more. “You were made for me.”

Steve hummed, pressing a soft kiss against Bucky’s lips. “I think you were made for me,” he said against Bucky’s lips. “Bucky…”

“Hm?”

“I’m all the way in.”

Bucky looked down, though he didn’t see much but his abs against Steve’s. His heart flipped as excitement bubbled through his veins. It didn’t hurt anymore. It was warm and carried a gentle, rhythmic pulse that radiated from his ass down to his toes and over his shoulders. “Make love to me Steve.”

Steve smiled, growling approvingly in the back of his throat as he dropped Bucky onto the bed, pushing his cock up further inside, pulling out little gasps of pleasure as he rocked gently. He rolled his hips, making each thrust long; careful to glide against Bucky’s canal as he pressed soft kisses against the boy’s jaw and down his neck. “Your ass is fucking heaven,” he laughed out.

Bucky’s cheeks heated as he looked away, biting at the corner of his lips.

“Mm,” Steve growled. “And the way you bite your lips…” He thrust into Bucky again; wrapping the boy’s arms around his neck again as he rolled from his shoulders all the way down to his thighs, extending his thrusts as much as possible.

“Ah! Steve!” Bucky gasped as he bit down against Steve’s collar bone. “So good. Feels− so good,” he panted.

Steve rolled them on the bed, allowing Bucky to be above him. He ran his fingers down the boy’s chest, looking at him hungrily as he allowed Bucky to ride him. Bucky was uncertain at first; biting at his lip absent-mindedly. “Rock into me, baby,” Steve said. “Use me.”

Bucky laughed. Steve’s voice was husky and raw. He’d never heard so much emotion put into a single baritone in his life. Bucky didn’t want anything else but the way Steve was looking at him now, still running his hands up and down his torso, fingering at his nipples and swirling his fingers around his hips. He gingerly rocked his lips, watching as Steve closed his eyes; his mouth forming the smallest “o.” Bucky felt empowered. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders, rocking his body back and forth as he rode against Steve’s thick cock, feeling it graze against his insides, massaging him hungrily. “Mmm, mmm,” Bucky whimpered, closing his eyes as he threw his head back; still rocking back and forth against Steve’s erection.

“God,” Steve breathed out. “Oh fuck, Buck, yeah, yeah, baby.” Bucky looked down, watching as Steve’s hands grabbed desperately at his hips. He watched Steve lick at his lips with his eyes closed and his brow creased. He was beautiful like this; even more so than he was the second he stepped into Bucky’s life.  

Bucky rolled his body; from shoulder down to his knees as he pushed up against Steve’s cock, allowing it to slam back inside him with loud smacking sounds as he bounced up and down. His breathing increased as he started to pant from how good he was making himself feel.

Steve’s legs clenched and unclenched under him as he moaned against Bucky’s thrusts, pushing his head back into the pillows. He growled, sitting up and claiming Bucky’s lips hungrily as he shoved himself against Bucky’s hole, rolling into Bucky’s rhythm as their bodies sped up. “F-fuck, Bucky, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled against Bucky’s lips. “Jesus Christ, your fucking tight ass…” He rolled his neck, moaning loudly before claiming Bucky’s lips again.

Steve pushed Bucky back down, slipping out for a moment before wrapping one of Bucky’s legs around his side as he fucked him from the side. Bucky’s body heated up instantly as Steve thrust into him frantically, rocking out and in with passionate rhythms. “Ah, ah, oh God, oh God, oh God, Steve!” Bucky whimpered. “Fuck me, Steve, fuck me faster, faster.”

Steve obliged, pumping his dick back to the tip before slamming it back inside Bucky. Bucky’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he moaned out loudly, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He grabbed at Steve’s back, pulling him as close as he could, rocking into his lover’s hasty thrusts. Steve’s lips found his as they crashed together in a sloppy, unprepared kiss. “Bucky,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips. “Bucky, Bucky…ah…ah.” Steve’s pants were _delicious_ against Bucky’s ear drums. He was responsible for how good Steve felt. His heart practically broke from how much it was over stimulated with passion.

“Steve,” Bucky whined out. “Steve touch me, please touch me,” he begged.

Steve wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s cock, matching the rhythm of their thrusts. He kissed down Bucky’s throat, licking his tongue over the sensitive skin and grunting occasionally.

Bucky gasped, unsure which way was up or down. All he knew was Steve. All he felt was Steve. Steve’s breath against his throat, his husky voice against his ears, his cock against his ass… All he needed was Steve.  “Steve,” he whined out. “St-eve, Steve, Steve. It feels− I feel−”

“You close baby?” Steve asked, mouthing against Bucky’s cheek. “I want you to come baby.”

“Ah! Steve!” Bucky gasped, feeling Steve’s finger press into his slit, circling it with rough desperation. “Steve, oh God, oh God, Go− Go−”

“Come for me baby,” Steve enticed with his lust-filled voice. “Come on baby. It feels good, yeah? Come for me baby.”

The heat that burned in Bucky’s ass was becoming too much. Tears blurred his vision as he clenched around Steve’s cock, receiving a guttural moan from the blonde as Bucky rolled his head back, panting and gasping as air didn’t seem to want to fill his lungs. His toes curled as he felt a build up in the pit of his abdomen. “Steve!” Bucky cried out. “Oh God, Steve, Steve, yeah, yeah, _yeah_!” Bucky whined, burying his face against Steve’s shoulder as he came. His seed pumped against Steve’s abs in rhythmic pulses. He breathed heavily through his nose, kissing Steve’s swollen lips desperately. His body shook from exhaustion and pleasure but he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to feel far away from Steve ever again.

“You feel good, baby?” Bucky asked; a dream-like quality to his voice.

Steve smiled. “Yeah baby. I feel real good.” He rolled his hips faster into Bucky, moaning softly against Bucky’s lips as he caught them in a kiss. “Can I come in you?”

Bucky nodded frantically. “Yeah, Steve. Please come in me. I wanna know− I wanna feel it,” he panted. He squeezed his muscles around Steve’s cock, knowing how to handle his body better than he had earlier. He watched Steve’s face fill with pleasure as Steve gasped. “Come inside me, baby,” Bucky taunted affectionately. “Come on baby, come in me.”

Steve’s shoulders started to shake as he moaned out loudly; pressing his lips desperately against Bucky’s; brushing his beard rough against Bucky’s smooth skin. He rolled atop Bucky, slamming his dick inside his lover, panting and gasping as his orgasm shook down his spine.

Bucky had never seen something so gorgeous. He lay there; wide-eyed and mystified as Steve’s body boiled over with pleasure. Steve slipped out of Bucky’s wrecked hole, dropping his face into Bucky’s chest.

“Fuck, Bucky,” Steve said. “Your God damned body.”

Bucky laughed as he ran his fingers through Steve’s sweaty hair. He pressed a light kiss atop the man’s head before nuzzling into him. “Hold me,” Bucky ordered.

Steve laughed, moving to sit up further on the bed. Bucky pressed himself into Steve, wrapping one leg around the man and burying his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. He kissed up his jaw, placing a soft, tired kiss against those silken lips. “You’re so needy,” Steve teased; lightly flicking at Bucky’s nose.

Bucky felt different. It was hard for him to put a finger on, but there was a pressure at the back of his lower spine that lounged there. His ass felt _open_ and he could feel Steve’s come sliding back out of him. While he felt accomplished, he also felt sad. He was slipping further away from Steve again. Steve would put his clothes on soon and then he’d walk away. He’d close that door and Bucky would be alone again.

“Please stay with me,” Bucky whispered. “I can’t be alone.”

Steve’s face pinched as he pursed his lips. “Bucky…” he sighed. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

“Why?”

Steve sighed, pressing a kiss against Bucky’s temple. “Because I’m pretty sure we were really loud and I’ve got no damn idea who heard and… I don’t know…” He looked at the door. Bucky watched those dark eyelashes blink. “I guess I just…don’t want anyone to even suspect I’d be guilty of this.”

“Guilty?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “I’m breaking the law, Bucky. Sure, sex is legal for a sixteen year old, but not with a thirty-one year old. Not with his doctor. A courtroom would string me up, take my license away and throw me in jail.” His eyes dulled as pain etched into them. “And I’d lose you.”

Bucky bit his lip; chewing it lightly. “Do you think your friends would tell on you?”

Steve laughed. “They’d be obligated to as doctors and nurses.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Steve pursed his lips, offering a silent apology. “I’m sorry baby.”

Bucky coughed a few times, hearing the phlegm build in the back of his throat. Luckily it stayed down there.

Steve sat up, peeling himself from Bucky. He grabbed his clothes and started to dress himself.

Bucky watched as Steve got further and further away from him. He was in a dark cavern; alone and the only company offered would be the blackness of death. Bucky had thought he’d felt alone before he’d slept with Steve. Without Steve there, but knowing he’d had it…it was worse. “Steve,” Bucky whined.

Steve finished putting his lab coat on. “Yeah baby?”

Bucky loved hearing him call him that. “I’m scared.”

Steve walked over to the bed, setting up the guard rail again and taking a seat on a rolling chair. “I know. But we’ve got antibiotics for you and we’ll keep you healthy.” He bent down, pressing a reassuring kiss against Bucky’s lips. “Good night, baby.”

Bucky winced. “Actually…” he drawled. “I think I need to clean you out of my ass…”

Steve’s eyes went wide before he burst out laughing. “Oh…oh yeah…I’m sorry…” His face flushed red with embarrassment. “You also may want to put some aloe on your neck and…ass…” He shrugged. “I kind of have a beard…”

Bucky cocked a brow. “No shit, Sherlock. I’d have never guessed!” He hopped out of the bed, feeling the cooling semen slowly run down his leg. He shivered at the sensation. “Get me some aloe then?”

Steve walked over to one of the cabinets, pulling out a small container. He set it on the bedside stand. “Do you need anything else?”

Bucky walked into the bathroom, spreading his legs, wetting a washcloth and taking it to his ass. “Nope.”

Steve stood in the doorway, leaning against it as he shoved his hands into his lab coat.

“Steve…” Bucky stated flatly. “You staring at me is making me uncomfortable.”

Steve laughed, scratching at his beard. “I’m sorry. This is just…you’re kind of beautiful.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he swayed his hips alluringly; giving Steve a small show. “If you stayed you could see more…” he teased.

Steve sighed heavily. “I can’t stay. I’m too scared.”

Bucky shrugged. “At least you’re honest.” It hadn’t hit him yet. That crash he got once Steve left. It hadn’t happened yet, but it was coming. He could feel his toes cooling to ice as it waited patiently beneath him. He dropped the washcloth into the sink, going over to his small, narrow closet to pull out a new hospital gown. “Can I start wearing pj’s now? Now that I’m probably gonna be committed for awhile?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered; nodding. “I don’t see why not. You have any here yet?”

“No. Mom said she’d bring me some.”

“You’ve talked to her?”

Bucky shrugged. “A little. She know about the pneumonia?”

Steve nodded. “Sharon called her.”

Bucky’s gaze cast to the corner of the bathroom. “I think she feels guilty. Thinks it’s her fault I’m this way.”

Steve’s brows creased. “It’s not her fault. It’s just who you are.”

Bucky coughed up phlegm, spitting it out into the toilet and flushing. “Fucking disgusting,” he grumbled. “You promise you’re gonna protect me?”

Steve stepped into the bathroom. He grabbed Bucky’s face, running his thumbs over the apple’s of Bucky’s cheeks. “I’m going to save you.”

Bucky pressed his face into Steve’s chest, inhaling his scent. Steve was everything to Bucky now. His life, his existence. His hope.

Bucky hadn’t felt that in the longest time. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. He didn’t want to let go.

Steve pulled away first, offering a silent grimace of an apology as he turned toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby.”

“Steve?” Bucky called after him.

Steve stopped; his hand was hovering over the door now. “Yeah?”

“Can I call you a pet name?”

Steve laughed; rolling his eyes. “Sure. Better be a good one though!” he teased. “I’ll see you in the morning. You’re gonna be fine. I swear to you.”

Bucky watched the door close. His heart weighed against his chest, snapping from its perch and falling into his stomach heavily. He was crashing. Tears welled in his eyes as he walked over to the window, staring out and praying he could see Steve walk to his car. Did he have a car? What kind would it be? He didn’t know. Steve had this whole other life outside the hospital’s walls that Bucky didn’t know about… He knew he had a dog, liked Fourth of July best and always dressed as Clark Kent for Halloween but that was silly stuff. He didn’t know Steve’s fears or his desires. He didn’t know his goals aside from wanting to help people. He didn’t know if Steve wanted to stay at the hospital as an attending or if he’d want to be an attending elsewhere. Bucky hardly knew anything.

He’d shared his body with Steve. He’d molded into one being sharing the same heart, but it was all torn away so quickly. Steve was his own person, leading his own life. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t gonna die early from some stupid cold like Bucky. He’d move on one day. He’d get to love someone else after Bucky was gone.

Bucky hadn’t cried that hard in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To credit the images I referenced when doing that smut scene: (All of these are from the Steve and Bucky porn look a like tumblr blog) (Mainly so if you were going "the fuck..." these are the visuals I was referencing for the descriptions? (Did I fail at it? idk...hahaha)  
>   
>   
> 
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/) Please follow me (and tell me if you want to be mutuals and I'll follow you as well!). I want to surround myself with Stucky friends. <3333
> 
> Drop a comment if you'd like- I love to hear from you! :)


	4. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SOOOO sorry for the delay! I go in circles updating each story in a roster. I hit a spout of writer's block on We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do and that...threw everything off. FORGIVE MEEE.
> 
> Shout out to Kells for helping edit this chapter and giving suggestions on how to make it as best as possible!! <33333
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!! Thank you for all your support! It means the world to get to share this with you! :)
> 
> Story tip: There's a portion of this story that would be SUPER enhanced if you listen to Smile by Nat King Cole. You'll know when it happens. ;) I highly suggest it. XD
> 
> Check out this amazing photoset that [IdRatherHaveYouMetalArmOrNot](http://idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot.tumblr.com/) made for me!  
> [CLICK ME!!](http://l1av.tumblr.com/post/120212779333/idratherhaveyoumetalarmornot-get-to-know-me/)

Steve had said he’d see Bucky “tomorrow.” That “tomorrow” had been three days ago. Steve hadn’t seen Bucky for _three_ days. The second Steve had gotten home that night, he’d finally listened to his messages that his uncle had left for him on his cell. There had been _three_. Three was quickly becoming Steve’s least favorite number.

Three messages where Steve wished desperately he hadn’t been in the arms of a sixteen-year-old and that he would have been on the phone with his uncle. Three messages. Each one begging and pleading Steve to call him back before it was too late. Each one begging Steve to “get his ass over here now.” Each one…saying Steve’s mother was dying.

It was too late by the time he’d gotten home three days ago. Three days ago…his mother had passed away. Three days ago, Steve was engaged in sexual activity with a patient…and his mother was dying.

Three days ago.

Her doctors said she’d felt no pain when the semi-truck had hit her car. Her spine was severed and she was paralyzed from the neck down. It was a wonder that she was still breathing when the “jaws of life” pulled her from the wreckage. Steve wouldn’t call that a miracle. It was a God damned tragedy. She knew what was coming. She knew her son was out there, not answering his phone. She knew she was going to die and she’d never see his face again. She knew…

Steve had no idea. Because three days ago, he was having sex with his patient; Bucky Barnes. Three days ago…he was worrying over the life of someone else. He was falling for a boy, barely old enough to make his own decisions. Three days ago…he’d realized how enamored he was with Bucky Barnes.

Three days ago…he didn’t answer his phone.

Steve was told by his attending to not come into work. FMLA paperwork had been mailed to him but Steve, quite frankly, didn’t have the drive to get out of bed. His beard had bushed out, making him look more like a lumberjack and less of himself. His skin was pale from the lack of light since he’d closed his blinds and made no attempt at opening them again. He stunk. He hadn’t showered since the night he’d been inside Bucky. The night his _mother_ had been _dying_.

Steve didn’t blame Bucky. Not one ounce of him held Bucky in any disregard. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. It was Steve’s. Steve should have listened to his phone. Steve should have been _aware_ of his phone. He’d been so attentive to Bucky that nothing outside of that boy mattered. Birds didn’t exist. Bucky’s parents didn’t exist. The universe didn’t exist. It had all been about Bucky. Steve didn’t regret it. He _loved_ it. He just…hated himself— because he didn’t pick up that _fucking_ phone. He hadn’t even heard it. He didn’t think Bucky had even heard it. They had encased themselves in each other and the world had given pause.

Except it didn’t. His mother was proof of that.

Three days.

Steve lay curled up against his side as he stared at a pile of laundry in the corner of his room. Scrubs upon scrubs upon scrubs filled up his hamper. It only served to remind him that for all his talent as a doctor…anyone could die at any given time. No one was safe. No one was guaranteed a full life. Bucky…Bucky wasn’t guaranteed a full life. His mother, a woman of perfect health, hadn’t been guaranteed a full life…all because of a tired semi-driver.

Steve was certain Bucky was alone and terrified. He was certain Bucky was beating himself up over something he had no control over. He wondered if anyone had told him _why_ Steve wasn’t there. He wondered if Bucky was upset because he wasn’t there. Sharon had said she’d tell Steve if Bucky’s condition worsened. He’d made her promise even though she’d seemed reluctant at first. She’d even gone so far to say he was getting too emotionally attached to the boy. That was laughable. He’d become _extremely_ emotionally attached. All in the course of a single week and Steve was already admitting he was probably falling in love. Well. When you knew, you knew, right? Most people decide if they can have sex with someone within around ten minutes of meeting them, at least from a physical standing. Or so Steve was told. He’d never pictured himself making love to Bucky Barnes until he was balls deep inside the boy and rolling his hips passionately to the sounds of Bucky’s mewling, tiny voice.

 _God_ , Steve loved that voice. It was sultry, uncertain, aggressive, innocent and _dirty_ all at the same time. Bucky had a voice Steve could listen to for hours. Except right now. Right now, Steve was barred from the hospital. Apparently, Sam had made sure to inform Steve’s attending that Steve would try to keep coming to work. Apparently, Banner had even written a letter to Steve’s Chief of Pediatrics, Brock Rumlow. Christ, he hated these men. He loved them. But he hated them. If Steve had been at work, he could have explained all this to Bucky. He could have explained why he wouldn’t be around. Steve’s nerves stung underneath his skin as he thought about how confused Bucky must be right now.

Bucky must have been _so_ lost the day after. Steve’s heart squeezed as he imagined a confused, round-faced Bucky as his gaze scanned a temporary physician and being at a loss as to why Steve hadn’t been there. Steve had said he’d make love to Bucky every night till the day he died. It was the worst thing he could have said but…he’d said it. He’d been so caught up in the oxytocin that coursed through his veins and overflowed into Bucky that he said anything the boy would want to hear. Yes, Steve cared for him. Yes, Steve wanted to see Bucky beat the odds and live a full life. But no…Steve hadn’t meant to inadvertently promise a full life _with_ Steve. There was too much uncertainty still. Too much that Steve had to battle. He was a doctor. Bucky was his _underaged_ patient.

Steve had come to terms that he was infatuated with a sixteen-year-old. He’d swallow that pill every morning till it built up so much in his system he’d need a higher dosage. But he hadn’t meant to cheat Bucky out of realistic odds. Once Bucky left the hospital…their relationship would have to end. Bucky was only being kept till his pneumonia cleared out. Then he’d be sent on his way with a huge script for antibiotics and a three month follow up.

It was a harsh, cold reality, but it was the one that Steve was being smacked in the face with. He didn’t _want_ to see Bucky back in the hospital. Seeing Bucky in the hospital meant that Bucky was sick. Seeing Bucky in the hospital meant that he could be dying. Steve didn’t want to see Bucky die.

But he wanted to be with Bucky.

Steve turned over onto his back. He ran his tongue over his teeth. They tasted stale. He hadn’t brushed his teeth much if truth be told since his mother was killed. Killed. It wasn’t even as if she died of cancer or some other disease.

She’d been _killed_ in a car accident. She’d been _robbed_ of life when there was medically no _reason_ for her to perish. Steve felt tears prick at his eyes. He felt acid bubble in the back of his throat as he felt he was going to be sick. Rolling from the bed, Steve tumbled onto the floor, crawling over to the wastebasket and allowing bile to come up. He hadn’t eaten much as of late. Mostly he picked off bread and made sure to drink water. He was constantly starving but he didn’t want to give himself the satisfaction of enjoying food when his mother would never taste it again.

He didn’t want to enjoy a meal and feel _happy_ when Bucky was in a hospital bed, being pumped full of drugs by hands wrapped in latex and mouths covered by masks. _‘He’s probably so terrified. And I’m here…’_

Steve rolled from the wastebasket, feeling his muscles protest as they flattened out on the hardwood floor. He needed to get up. He needed to…put himself back together.

His phone chimed. Sluggishly, Steve crawled over to his nightstand. His eyes widened as he saw Sharon’s name light up on the screen. He flicked the answer screen, putting the phone up to his ear. “Sharon? Is Bucky okay?”

He winced. Granted, it wasn’t like Sharon would really be calling him for anything else outside of work. They were friends, but strictly work friends. It wasn’t unrealistic for Steve to be inquiring about Bucky. However, Sharon had started to act differently with Steve. Each time he mentioned Bucky, she’d give him this…look. Maybe Steve was just feeling guilty. It had only been a few days. She couldn’t possibly know of their affair that soon.

Though Bucky had been loud…three nights ago…

 _“You told me to call if Bucky’s condition got worse…”_ Her voice was tight. Steve could practically see her dancing on the fragile egg shells as she waited for him to respond.

She was calling. Sharon was calling. Bucky was sick. Bucky was getting worse.

_‘No…no you can’t take him away from me too!’_

“I need to see him,” Steve said automatically. “How bad is he? What’s happening?”

_“You shouldn’t come in, Steve. He’s in ICU. He’s having a lot of trouble breathing. We’ve got Dr. Connors on the case. You should stay home.”_

“I’m coming in,” Steve said with a tone that only suggested absolution and finality. “I’ll be there soon.”

 _“Steve!”_ Sharon protested. _“His parents are here.”_

Steve didn’t understand why that mattered. Why would Sharon tell him that when he’d just discover it when he got there? It was expected that parents be in the ICU wards when their children were there. Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Sharon…” he said tightly. “Do you…?”

_“Just be careful, Steve. See you soon.”_

It wasn’t an admission. It wasn’t telling. Steve had no idea if Sharon knew. He couldn’t directly ask in the fear that his assumption was wrong, but…why would she mention Bucky’s parents? In theory, it shouldn’t matter to a doctor if the parents were there. It would only matter to a boyfriend who had to hide in the shadows to protect himself and his lover. He felt pins and needles attack his skin in ravenous hunger as waves of panic dumped over his head. Sharon had to know… She had to.

Hastily, Steve bolted into the bathroom. He took his toothbrush into the shower as he washed himself in record timing. He stepped out, staring at himself in the mirror and wincing. He still looked like a lumberjack. Sighing, Steve picked up a razor. His beard would grow back. Maybe a change in his look would lighten his mood. He really doubted it, but, it was the thought that counted. _‘Mom always teased me about my baby face…’_

After finishing up, Steve stared at himself in the mirror. He looked younger, but not necessarily healthier. His cheeks were surprisingly the same shade as his forehead despite having been blocked by a beard for so long. His eyes were dark and the bags that pooled underneath them weighed heavily against his face. He _looked_ exhausted despite the amount of sleep he was getting. Turning from the bathroom, Steve went to put on street clothes; a simple blue tight-fitting shirt and low-rising jeans.

He paused as he finally realized what was happening. Bucky was in the ICU. Bucky…the boy with immunodeficiency with hyper-IgM…was in the ICU. Because he had pneumonia. Because he’d been in the hospital too long. Because Steve was too worried to discharge him. Bucky could be dying. Steve’s mother was dead and now Steve wasn’t even mourning over her. He was thinking of Bucky. Guilt climbed up Steve’s spine, reaching into his brain and weighing the back of his head back till he stumbled backward. He felt dizzy. He should be mourning over his mother. He was mourning over his mother. Just…she was gone. Steve had a chance to see Bucky before…

_‘Please not yet…not now.’_

Steve started to feel his lungs tighten. He grabbed at his wardrobe as he attempted to steady himself. His chest rose and fell in short, quick bursts as he continued to allow the harsh realizations burrow into his skin. Bucky…who was terrified of dying. Bucky…who hadn’t seen Steve in three days despite Steve having said “he’d see him tomorrow.” Bucky…who was a sixteen-year-old with the worst case of a death-fixation. He could be dying. Steve felt his lungs shut tight. His stomach shot up into his chest as he rocked into his dresser, attempting to steady himself against the dark drawers. 

He fumbled into those drawers, wheezing and gasping for air as his asthma was in full effect. His heart was racing frantically within his chest as he thought about all the empty lies and promises he’d given Bucky. Bucky knew better. It broke Steve’s heart into thousands of bleeding, tiny shards, but Bucky had known better. He knew not to trust Steve. He knew he was doomed.

And now he could be facing it. Just like Steve’s mother. Three days ago.

* * *

 

Steve may have parked in a handicapped spot. He may have ignored several stop signs. He may have turned left on a red light when no one was around… But he wouldn’t admit that to anyone but himself. He’d atone for his sins later. Right now he needed to see Bucky. He needed to make sure he saw _someone_ before they were gone from the world. He’d failed his mother. He wouldn’t fail Bucky. He’d be there the whole time. He’d stay the night. He’d swallow his pride and shove away his fears and he’d _fucking_ stay the night! He should have stayed the night he’d left. He’d already missed his mother’s life snuff out like a candle’s weak flame. He should have stayed with Bucky when he had the chance to see him happy.

Steve stopped. His heart seemed to slam against his chest as it had attempted to continue walking forward. Steve was being irrational. He didn’t know if Bucky was dying! Bucky was in ICU. He was being looked after by a team of doctors, not just one or two. A flock of doctors…monitoring those screens and nurses to constantly peak in and check on him. It wasn’t a death sentence! Steve was just so fixated on his guilt that rationality hadn’t been apparent. He’d missed his chance with his mother. He wouldn’t miss his chance with Bucky…but that didn’t mean Bucky was destined to die today. It didn’t even mean he was going to die a year from now! He was in the ICU. He had pneumonia. But Sharon had called…

Did Sharon know? Was that why she called? Did she want Steve to see Bucky before he got too sick to keep his eyes open? Was this a sick game she was playing to coerce Steve into the hospital to be taken away by police? Steve’s spine shivered violently in his back and down to his tailbone. What if this was a trap? What if Sharon had found out and she was disgusted and had reported Steve?

Steve went for the side door. He didn’t want anyone to be able to see him coming if there were police waiting for him. Frantic and rattled, Steve made his way up the sidestairs, ducking his face and avoiding anyone that attempted to look his way. He peered out of a small window in the door to the stairwell as he looked down the long hall of the ICU. No cops. Was he safe?

“What are you doing?”

“JESUS CHRIST!” Steve shouted as his bones practically jumped from his skin. He turned to see Sharon. Her head was tossed to the side and she had a pointed brow cocked, scrutinizing Steve. “Didn’t anyone tell you to not sneak up on people?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to be so shady about entering a hospital? What are you doing?”

Steve looked into the window again. “Bucky’s in there?”

“…Yes…? Steve…are you on drugs?” She took a step closer, pressing her palm against his forehead. “You’re allowed to be suffering, but drugs…”

“I’m not on drugs, Sharon!” Steve spat. “Not even sleep meds.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why are you sneaking around like a guy who just raided the pharmacy?”

“I just…” Steve paused, heaving a deep sigh. “I don’t know. I just…feel guilty.”

Sharon’s eyes softened. “Why?”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to my mom.” He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I was here. Working late.”

“You were with Bucky,” Sharon clarified. “I remember.”

Steve instantly felt his spine stiffen. “He’s my patient,” he said curtly. “I was concerned for him since he didn’t take the news about his condition lightly.”

“Steve…” Sharon sighed out. “I heard you…”

Steve’s blood ran cold as it froze in his veins. His eyes widened and he was pretty sure he could _hear_ his irises shattering from shock. “W-what?”

“I understand now why you’re so attentive to him.”

Steve blinked. “Y-you do?”

“He’s got serious separation anxiety. His whole outburst about you loving Peter…” Sharon clicked her tongue a few times. “You were right to keep asking him to lower his voice.”

“Wait…” Steve said flatly. “You…what did you hear?”

Sharon crossed her arms. “He was scared ‘cause he thought he was dying and asked you to stay and you said no? He got pretty upset and you handled it...well…you said “fuck” at your patient but...” She shrugged. “I left after he stopped screaming. Kid’s got a huge obsession with you.”

“And that’s all you heard?”

Sharon cocked a brow once more. “Yeah? Was there more?”

Steve slumped back against the wall. It felt like he’d just lost twenty pounds in a matter of seconds. “Bucky’s…” he drawled. “Bucky’s terrified of dying. He’s terrified of being alone. He takes it out on me when I stop acting like a friend and remind him I’m his doctor.”

“He’s also terrified of _losing_ you,” Sharon said. “I’d suggest removing yourself from his case, but that’d probably do more harm than good. I get why you do basically everything when it comes to him. At first…” She laughed shortly. “I thought you trying to hide him away in case he was some patient zero or something.”

“You honestly think I’d deprive my favorite nurse of discovering a patient zero?”

Sharon smiled warmly. “He’s got some serious mental issues that need to be worked out…provided he…” Sharon let the words hang awkwardly in the air. “How’re you? Right now— Really.”

Steve inhaled deeply through his nose as he rolled in his lips. “I don’t know,” he stated. “I hate myself. If I hadn’t been working with Bucky— I’d have picked up my phone.”

Sharon slid down to sit next to Steve on the floor of the stairwell. “She’s proud of you. You’re literally a life-saver. Bucky’s an extremely unique case. I’m sure she died knowing she had your love.”

 _‘I’m sure she died feeling disgusted that her son had his cock up a sixteen-year-old’s ass…’_ Steve was Catholic. He believed in some form of afterlife. He just wasn’t entirely sure what it’d look or feel like. He wasn’t sure if souls judged the living for their mistakes or if they were more advanced than that. His mother had always been supportive of his homosexuality…after the rough patch at the beginning. But he was sure she’d be disappointed with him if she knew her son was seeing a _child_.

“Steve?” Sharon inquired softly. She wrapped her arms around him gingerly. “It’s okay to cry.”

Steve hadn’t even realized there were tears spilling silently from his eyes. He rolled his head against hers. His mother was dead. She was the only real family he’d had left outside of his dog. He had his uncle and his family, but, they didn’t exactly _accept_ Steve’s “life choices.”

  _‘I forgot to feed Cap this morning…’_

He cried harder. His shoulders shook as his grief flooded through his veins, washing away his blood and replacing it with lead. He’d never said goodbye. He’d never told her how much he loved her. He was now sitting here, neglecting his dog, forgetting his duties as a companion to an animal that couldn’t take care of itself, wasting time that he could be spending with Bucky…all because he was _crying_. All because he didn’t pick up a phone. “I’m so sorry, Sharon,” he choked out.

She stroked at his hair softly. “You don’t have to be. I get it. When my aunt died, I was assisting Dr. Banner with a surgery. I didn’t really need to. I’m not a scrub nurse, but the patient wanted me. My aunt passed away silently…alone. No one had been with her. The nurses at the home had called me that day saying she’d been asking for me. She knew her time was up and I wasn’t there.” She spoke distantly, like the words weren’t really hers. Her eyes were glossed over as memories from a time before played before her, memories that Steve could only guess were once happy and now replaced with pain. He understood that perfectly. Every happy moment he’d had with his mother was now ruined all because he’d not heard his phone. He’d been so _transfixed_ on the sounds Bucky made. His little gasps…those soft moans…

Steve slammed his head back into the wall; wincing when pain blossomed in his skull. “I need to get to Bucky.”

“Dr. Rumlow really was serious about you not being here for work,” Sharon warned. “Apparently, you’ve never taken a sick day in your entire time here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ve got a strong work-ethic. And— I’ve been gone for three days. So by my calculations…I’ve taken sick days.”

Sharon’s eyelids dropped in a deadpanned demeanor. “Those don’t count! I’m serious, Steve. Rumlow’s gonna be pissed if he sees you.”

“I’m not working, Sharon. I’m here for my friend.” Steve stood up, wiping at his eyes. He offered a hand down for Sharon but she didn’t take it. She pointedly helped herself up.

“If he makes it through this, please be careful with him. I think he likes you more than he should.”

Steve flicked his brow once. “I know.”

“You like your patients crushing on you like this?” Sharon asked with a small hint of a smile.

Steve tried to laugh, but it sounded gurgled and thick. “I like my patients believing in me. Gives ‘em hope.”

“Everyone believes in you, Steve,” Sharon corrected. “Patients and staff.” She opened the door, motioning for Steve to enter before her. “He’s in room 607.”

Steve walked the halls, feeling like he’d just quite literally dodged a bullet. His hands were tingling as they trembled from coming down from so much panic. Sharon was aware Bucky had feelings for Steve, but she wasn’t aware that Steve had feelings for Bucky. Okay. That was better than the other way around.

He knocked on the door before opening it. Winifred and George Barnes were there. They were slumped together in the cold room. Winnie was on her phone and George was watching the TV in the corner. Bucky was asleep in the bed; tucked under an absurd number of blankets. His lips were purple and he had deep bruising around his eyes. Steve’s heart was shrieking in his chest. _‘God, why are you punishing me like this? Don’t take him. Take me if you’re looking for someone to die.’_

“Dr. Rogers,” George said. Clearly he was shocked to see him here. “Dr. Connors told us the news about your mother.”

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Winnie said. Her eyes were large and in the same of almonds; so similar to Bucky’s. She seemed truly empathetic. There was a high chance her son was dying. She’d know how Steve felt. He offered a strained smile as he walked into the room.

“I’m just here to check up on him. I told Sharon to alert me of any changes, which...I hear there were changes.”

“You should be at home resting,” Winnie said. “You don’t need to overwork yourself.”

Steve pulled the rolling chair over to sit next to Bucky’s bed. He checked his fluids, then his vitals. His pulse was steady. That was good. “How’s his breathing?” He wished he had his stethoscope.

“He wheezes a lot. Dr. Connors said not to be alerted if he goes into a fit and just to alert a nurse.”

Steve nodded. “I really hope you don’t find it unprofessional…” Steve began hesitantly. “But would you mind if I stayed? Your son’s one of my favorite patients.”

Winnie smiled brightly. “He’d be so happy to hear that. He speaks so highly of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked; sporting a timid, crooked smile. His stomach twisted as his gaze flicked to George. He was looking at the TV again. If he was suspicious, he’d be analyzing Steve. Clearly George Barnes had no idea how his son truly felt for his doctor and evidently neither did Winnie.

“Yesterday he was telling us how you drew blood from him and he didn’t even feel it. He was rather impressed,” she said.

Steve laughed awkwardly, knowing exactly why Bucky hadn’t paid attention. He’d been too busy pushing his tongue into Steve’s mouth… “Yeah well, when you’re in peds you tend to find ways to make kids forget their pain.” He scratched at his chest absent-mindedly.

Winnie nodded. She’d opened her mouth to speak again when Bucky began coughing. All gazes turned to him.

Bucky’s eyes were shut tight; his brow crinkled and stressed. He pulled his hand to cover his mouth as he wheezed back violently. Steve mentally chided that using your hand was improper when coughing, but he said nothing. Bucky was young and no doctor. Steve stood up, reaching for the inhaler that was residing on the small eating perch that had been cast aside so Bucky could sleep. He brought the inhaler to Bucky’s mouth.

“Inhale as best you can, buddy,” Steve said.

Bucky’s lungs protested loudly as Bucky attempted to take a sharp, constricted breath in. He’d managed to breathe in two puffs from the inhaler before his shoulders slumped and he began coughing easier; louder. Phlem crackled loudly in the back of his throat.

Steve felt his heart chilling. Watching Bucky suffer was like watching a puppy be neglected. He wished he could do more. He wished he could pull this boy into his arms and stroke his hair; kiss his face. He hated having to _stand_ there like some…standard doctor.

“Hey, Doc,” Bucky said through a broken, hoarse voice. “Thought y’were on leave.” Bucky coughed lightly. “Your beard’s gone.”

Steve nodded tightly. “Yeah! Thought I’d try something different. Came to see you.”

“I like it.” Bucky looked over to his parents, eyeing them suspiciously. “They behavin’?”

Steve cocked a brow. “Perfectly. How’re you feeling?”

Bucky tried to sit up, but another round of coughing wrecked at his lungs. He shook violently, going a bit purple in the face before slamming back against the bed. “Like I’m dying. I am dying…right?” He’d attempted to make it sound casual, but Steve knew better. Steve saw the desperation laced into the tiny lines of Bucky’s irises. He saw the smallest twitch of that soft mouth. He saw the fear that was snaking through Bucky’s veins, blackening his skin.

“You’re not dying!” Winnie protested desperately. “You’re sick. People get sick, Bucky. You’ll get better like you always do.”

Steve wasn’t sure if the words were really for Bucky or for her. He licked at his lips, watching Bucky’s gaze dart to his mother.

“You’re not my doctor.”

“James!” George scolded.

“Can you two just…go? Like, go get lunch or somethin’?” Bucky asked. His voice was like sandpaper. Steve winced each time there was a small inflection that caused Bucky’s voice to break.

“Bucky…” Winnie responded timidly.

“C’mon,” George said standing up and stretching his arms high into the air. He groaned into the stretch. “Let’s take a walk and let Bucky talk to his doctor.”

Winnie’s face was taut with fear as she slowly stood up. She never took her gaze off her son. Steve understood. She loved him. It didn’t matter that Bucky was struggling with his sexuality to her. At least, not right now. Bucky was sick and her instincts were to do anything to protect her son. Steve respected that.

After they left, Bucky tried to lean forward again but he wheezed, coughing up thick, wet phlegm. “Am I dying?” he asked despondently.

Steve sighed heavily, sitting back in the rolling chair. “There’s a chance…but you’re not _actively_ dying. With proper observation you should be fine.”

“I thought you were angry with me,” Bucky said softly. He was looking down at his pale fingers, picking at his nails. “After that night…”

“Bucky…” Steve pressed gingerly. “No. Not at all.” He sat back onto the rolling chair, scooting up with the bed to lace his fingers in Bucky’s. _‘His hands are cold.’_

“I can’t die yet, Steve,” Bucky continued. He squeezed Steve’s hand. “I’ve been sittin’ here thinking about all this stuff I wanna do with you. I can’t die without doin’ it all.” He pulled Steve’s hand to his face as he kissed each knuckle softly.

Steve’s heart squeezed as he listened to the gentle sounds of lips softly pressing against skin. He leaned forward, caressing Bucky’s clammy face. “Tell me what you wanna do?”

Bucky smiled, leaning into Steve’s touch as he dropped Steve’s hand back at his side. Their fingers were still tightly laced together. His eyes were dull and his smile only made him look like he was suppressing bile in his stomach, but the sentiment was there. “Go on a walk together. Take pictures together. Dance—”

“You wanna dance with me?” Steve asked, laughing lightly. “I’m terrible at dancing.”

“Bet that’s a lie,” Bucky said back. Steve saw the faintest sparkle in those tired eyes. He wanted to pull more of that out. He wanted Bucky’s eyes to shine so brightly that they lit up the world.

“I can prove it to you— When you’re parents leave.”

Bucky’s eyes rounded. “B-but I’m…really tired, Steve. I can’t dance like this.” He looked down at his body, gesturing with his free hand to himself.

Steve already had a plan. “Once your parents leave. You n’ me are gonna dance.” His words were light, but there was a hint of finality laced in them. He saw Bucky’s eyes light up briefly again. “Got the song for it and everything.”

“What song?” Bucky asked.

“Pff, it’s a secret,” Steve said as he gently ruffled Bucky’s hair. “Peter allowed to see you?”

Bucky’s face paled. Steve instantly regretted asking. “Dad won’t let ‘em.”

Steve sighed heavily, flicking his brow once. He wasn’t surprised. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re mom died?” Bucky blurted randomly.

Steve blinked in startled confusion. “Y-yeah…” he breathed out. “Car accident.”

“I know,” Bucky said softly. “Dr. Connors told me. At first no one would tell me why you weren’t here. I threatened them that I’d stop taking my meds if they didn’t tell me.”

“Bucky…” Steve chided. “You do that and they put you on a suicide watch.”

“My plan obviously worked, Doc. Jesus. Chill out.”

Steve lowered his shoulders. “You shouldn’t do stuff like that.” Steve pressed his lips tightly together. Bucky couldn’t keep being so reckless, not when his life was on the line. Pulling stunts like that would only raise suspicion and could get him sicker… Steve couldn’t have him risk that.

“I wanted to know why you’d left me,” Bucky said, barely above a whisper. “Steve…” Tears blurred Bucky’s eyes, casting false sparkles as the light hit them. “I thought you hated me. Thought I did somethin’ wrong.”

Steve swallowed tightly. This obsession Bucky had with him… It was dangerous. Psychologically, Bucky was unstable. It was _painfully_ evident he had an obsessive personality. He was fixated on death. He was fixated on Steve. He wouldn’t let either one of them rest. He was irrational. His actions could have cost him greatly had Dr. Connors not been his original doctor. Dr. Connors probably understood Bucky’s psyche better than most. “Have you seen a psychiatrist yet?”

“Been too busy _dying_ , Steve,” Bucky responded tightly. He wiped the tears away from his cheeks, clearing his throat. Steve could hear the phlegm that resided in the back of the trachea. It made him wince as guilt burrowed into Steve’s chest. He did this. He’d kept Bucky far too long. Bucky had a simple infection that was eradicated with the procedure. He’d given Bucky pneumonia…

“You’re not gonna die,” Steve said. He was tired of this conversation. He was tired of running around in circles with Bucky. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“My birthday’s next week,” Bucky abruptly said.

Steve was getting whiplash from how fast Bucky would bounce the conversation around. He was a child; a child who could only focus on one subject at a time and when one began to bore him, he’d just move along to the next thing that popped into his mind.

“—Supposed to turn seventeen.”

“You _will_ turn seventeen,” Steve affirmed.  “We’re gonna cure you.”

Steve felt his feet go cold. For once, Steve wasn’t so sure if he was saying that to calm Bucky or himself. Bucky had pneumonia. Patients with Bucky’s condition _did_ die from pneumonia. It wasn’t a death sentence but there was that _chance_.

“Please don’t let me die,” Bucky pleaded.  His crackling voice wavered as a new batch of tears spilled from his eyes. He grabbed Steve’s hand with both of his. “Steve, I’m so scared. Please don’t let me die.”

Steve looked at the door. He had no idea how long Bucky’s parents would be gone but Bucky needed him. He couldn’t just sit there and allow Bucky to cry into himself. So he sat on the bed, pulling Bucky into him as he allowed Bucky to bawl into his chest. He said nothing. He stared at the wall. His mother was dead. Bucky wasn’t out of the woods yet. Steve had no idea when Bucky’s parents would be back. Everything was spiraling out of control. Ever since Steve decided that allowing this boy into his life was a good idea…everything had gone to hell. And it’d only been one week… One hell of a week.

He ran his fingers though Bucky’s hair; feeling the boy cough into his shirt. He didn’t care. Bucky could throw up on him and he’d not even raise a brow. He only cared about Bucky’s health. _‘How’d he do this to me?’_

“Steve,” Bucky whimpered into Steve’s chest. “Do y’think you’re mom’s happy?”

Steve finally tore his gaze from the wall. He looked down. Bucky’s nose was red and his eyes were swollen and bruised. He looked like a zombie…if Steve was being blunt. But he was beautiful underneath the illness. Steve could see the beauty that threatened to radiate from under that pastel complexion and those matte eyes. “Yeah, Buck. I know she is.”

“How?” Bucky croaked. “She can’t talk to you no more.”

Steve nodded; pursing his lips. “Because I believe in God. I believe she’s with Him.”

Bucky huffed. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “I don’t believe in that shit.” He curled into Steve’s side, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder. He’d stopped crying.

Steve wasn’t offended. People had just as much a right to not believe as Steve had a right _to_ believe. He chose to believe. If these kids were suffering here for _no reason_ …Steve didn’t want to even finish the thought. It only angered him. “So you don’t believe you’ll go to Heaven when you die?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head as he wiped his nose. Steve handed him a tissue from the nightstand. “Nope,” Bucky said. “I don’t think there’s anything after I die.”

Steve winced. How could he console someone who’d spent entirely too much time thinking about his death? How could he calm Bucky’s fears when Bucky was _certain_ of his outcome? He wasn’t qualified for this. He healed the body, not the mind. Hell, he didn’t even heal the actual organ of the brain. That was Dr. Banner’s field. Sighing, Steve pressed a long kiss atop Bucky’s head. “I’m gonna stay with you tonight.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, his voice springing to live with excitement.

Steve laughed. “Yeah. I think we both need someone right now.”

Bucky’s face fell. He bit at his lower lip. “Are you okay? ‘Bout your mom?”

Steve tried to offer a strong smile but it was tired and didn’t resonate in his eyes. “No,” he answered simply. “I feel I let her down. I wasn’t there when she needed me and now I can’t change it. I’m a doctor. Even with all this knowledge and I couldn’t do a _damn_ thing to save her.”

Bucky sucked in his lips, blinking slowly and starting at the edge of the bed. “If there is a heaven,” Bucky began. “Your mom’s there n’ she’s really proud of you. You didn’t let her down.”

Steve offered a crooked smile. He stood from the bed, going back over to the rolling chair. Bucky’s eyes filled with uncertainty and terror at the loss of contact. “Your parents could come back any time,” Steve reminded. “I don’t need something else to feel guilty about.”

Bucky nodded. He tried to sigh but it ended up becoming a desperate wheezing sound. He grabbed at his chest, coughing up a thick round of phlegm. Steve handed him a plastic cup from the nightstand. “Don’t you dare swallow that,” he said sternly. “Spit it out, please.”

Bucky did as instructed. Steve winced at the green fluid in the cup. He tossed it aside into the trash next to the bed.

“I’m so tired, Steve,” Bucky mumbled out. “But I don’t wanna die in my sleep.”

“You’re not gonna die in your sleep,” Steve replied. “I’ll be right here to monitor you. If anything changes I’ll know.”

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand. For as weak as he looked the grip was strong. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

* * *

 

Bucky’s parents had come back after Bucky had fallen asleep. Steve had conversed with them lightly about Bucky’s condition. They spoke a bit about what Bucky was like outside of the hospital. Winnie spoke of how her son loved to play guitar when he felt happy and when he was sad he’d play video games. George lamented that Bucky had never taken to sports but accepted that he appreciated music more. Neither of them mentioned Bucky’s homosexuality. Neither of them acted as if anything was wrong with their relationship with their son.

It was here that Steve realized he really had _no idea_ who Bucky really was. He knew him as a desperate patient who clung to life more than the average person, boy with the cute laugh that he’d get to see on occasion when he saw Peter, the boy who refused to speak for days after his lung surgery. Peter’s best friend. Kind. Sweet. Anxious.

Steve knew a lot of who Bucky was as a person was reflected in his behavior. He was impulsive, emotional, caring, intelligent, but Steve didn’t know if Bucky preferred The Rolling Stones or The Beatles. He didn’t know if he enjoyed hikes or would rather curl up on a couch and watch TV. It never occurred to Steve just how _badly_ he did want to know. He wanted to know everything Bucky was. He wanted to know what made Bucky smile and what made him cry. He wanted to watch him learn. He wanted to see him _grow_.

_‘I want him to live.’_

Steve soaked up every bit of information Winnie and George had to offer about Bucky. He filed it all away in the safety of his heart with a backup file in his brain. Bucky liked frogs. Bucky hated cats. Bucky had crashed his bike when he was six into his father’s car and tried to blame it on his neighbor. Bucky refused to wear anything but green when he was in kindergarten. These were the stories told from a family who _loved_ him. How could they be struggling with his homosexuality when they were so open about their love for him? Or maybe it didn’t matter anymore?  

“—Bucky never wanted to ride that rollercoaster ever again!” Winnie said happily. “Oh gosh, he was the sweetest kid.”

“He still is,” Steve responded. “This isn’t a death sentence. With proper care and attention, Bucky could make a recovery.”

“And then what’d be next? Cancer?” George shot back. “If this doesn’t kill him something else will.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open. Shock froze his very cells as George uttered his pessimistic words. “Sir,” Steve said. “Bucky could live a full life if he takes care of himself.”

George flicked his brows up once. “Bucky doesn’t do so well with that.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

Winnie looked like she wanted to say something but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was George who finally spoke again, after the long, awkward silence. “Bucky’s…” he sighed. “He hates living.”

“He’s not suicidal!” Winnie piped up. “When we’re at home it’s hard to get him to shower. Says it doesn’t matter because he’ll be dead soon. Then he gets an infection and just…waits. Getting him to eat is a chore sometimes. He gets into these moods where he just lies in his bed and cries. We don’t know what to do.”

Steve leaned back in the rolling chair. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your son’s depressed. It’s not uncommon for children to suffer depression, especially when they’ve got a potentially life-threatening disease. I’d referred him to a psychiatrist but I assume he hasn’t met with him yet.”

“We know,” George said. “Sharon had told us. Dr. Jarvis?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he works extensively with kids suffering depression and anxiety. He’s helped Parker get though a few things too.”

George scoffed.

Steve raised his brow.  “I’m not a psychiatrist but,” Steve said as he leaned over on his knees. “Having Bucky room with Peter when he’s here may do wonders for his outlook on life. They’re best friends.”

 “He’s a nice boy,” Winnie said. Her voice was tight, like she was walking on eggshells. “But we’re just not sure if he’s who Bucky should be around right now. He’s in such a fragile state. Seeing Peter dying…” Her voice tapered off at the suggestion.

“But it’s better than leaving him to his own devices.”

“We just can’t stand knowing he’d be around…death,” Winnie said.

“But Bucky hates being alone,” Steve countered gently. His gaze flicked over to Bucky. He watched his chest slowly rise and fall as he slept. He looked so much older than almost-seventeen. Steve enjoyed knowing that he was almost seventeen; made him feel less guilty about his relationship with him. The bruises around his eyes aged him. His pale skin showed off every line and imperfection of his face. Most people looked innocent or youthful when they slept. Not Bucky; not as his body was plagued with pneumonia.

“You’re the doc. We’re just his parents,” George responded with a resigned voice. Steve was so much more than just Bucky’s doctor now. He was literally the lifeline in which Bucky had entrusted. He was his…lover. Age gap or not, Steve wouldn’t set this boy aside and deprive him of human companionship. He needed it more than anything else. Positivity could change a diagnosis. Steve had seen it before. He’d see it again.

“Bucky can room with another boy. Just not Peter,” George dictated.

Steve sighed. As a lover, he could push further, but as a doctor, he’d gotten what he wanted. He had to back off. They didn’t even bring up Peter’s homosexuality. They were more worried about how Bucky felt around a person who was most likely going to die. Steve stood up, grabbing his keys. He needed to step away and call his neighbor to feed his poor dog and he needed some food.

“Will you two be leaving soon?” he asked.

“No. We planned to stay till at least ten,” Winnie answered. “We’d stay longer but we can’t keep taking off work.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll make sure someone watches him tonight.” Lies. He’d be the one watching him tonight. He just wasn’t going to tell Bucky’s father that. It was clear as day that Bucky was loved by his family. George loved his son. Some fathers disowned their kids after they came out. George was either avoiding the subject or Bucky was…exaggerating how George really felt about it.

“I’ll be back shortly. I just need to grab some food,” Steve said as he walked out the door. He’d gone down to the café, making sure to duck his head and hide behind corners whenever he saw doctors that he _knew_ would fuss about him being here.

He hid in the bathroom; tucked away in a stall when Dr. Rumlow had been walking toward him. Steve decided it was best and call his neighbor and ask he feed Cap. Steve felt so guilty. He hadn’t mean to forget to feed Cap his breakfast. He’d just been…so preoccupied.

He finally arrived in the café, grabbing a boxed sandwich and a cup of potato soup. That’s when Sam saw him. _‘Shit.’_

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Sam shouted as he stormed over to Steve. People turned their heads to face the sound. Steve felt his ears go red from embarrassment. He ducked his head as he wished the world would just swallow him up. “The hell you doing here?” Sam asked as he finally reached the table where Steve was.

“I just…” Steve began heavily. “I just needed to check on a patient.”

“Barnes?”

Steve looked up in astonishment. Sharon was constantly around. It was expected that she’d catch who Steve played favorites to but Sam was always down in radiology. “Y-yeah…”

Sam sunk into the seat in front of Steve; sitting on one of his feet. “Dude…you can’t help him like this.”

“Like what?” Steve asked pointedly.

Sam’s gaze dipped down, observing all of Steve’s demeanor. “You’re hurting. You shaved your bead. Only people suffering do drastic changes or behave impulsively.”

_‘Bucky’s always impulsive…’_

“I just…Mom used to tease me about my face. Said I had a baby face. I just…wanted something different.”

“You wanted to hold onto your ma’s memory,” Sam corrected. “Dude. Go home. Plan her funeral. Pet Cap. Watch a ton of Robin Williams movies and cry your eyes out. Don’t stress yourself over a kid with pneumonia.”

Steve dipped his spoon into the potato soup. He watched it with a disinterested face before pushing it aside. Sam instantly grabbed at it and began eating.

“You should be eating this. Not me. Look what you’re making me do. You should be ashamed of yourself. Potato soup is full of calories!”

Steve attempted to crack a smile but it vanished before it was even apparent it’d been there. “Sorry.”

“Dude,” Sam said again. “Does Rumlow know you’re here?”

Steve let a restrained laugh pass through his lips. “No. I hid in the bathroom when I saw him in the hall.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “He’ll flay you alive if he catches you. You work too hard. Go. Home. It’s okay to be a regular human. You don’t have to be Superman all the time.”

Steve flicked his brow up once. “I’m not being Superman. I’m just checking in on a patient.”

“So,” Sam said as he took another bite of the soup. “You’ve checked on him already right? Go home.”

Steve’s grimaced. “I was thinking about staying. I don’t wanna be alone, Sam.”

The annoyance melted from Sam’s brown eyes. “That’s understandable.”

“I’m just gonna be with Bucky. I won’t do rounds. I won’t put on a lab coat. K?”

Sam eyed Steve warily. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I swear, if you so much as check an IV pouch I’ll find you and gut you.”

Steve laughed. It was lighter, more real. This is why they were best friends. Sam was the only person alive that could make Steve laugh when he felt like falling into a black pit never to be seen again.

“Eat your damn sandwhich,” Sam ordered. “Imma sit here and watch you do it.”

“Yes _sir_ ,” Steve shot back with a smile that clearly was humoring Sam’s concern. He’d eat the sandwich, even if he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

* * *

 

Steve had spent the rest of his day with Bucky and his family. He genuinely liked Bucky’s parents. Winnie was kind and Steve could tell Bucky had gotten most of his looks from her and George was intelligent and witty. During their time softly conversing about Bucky’s life, Bucky had fallen into several fits. Each one left his throat clenching and tensing as he fought with all his might to pull air into his lungs.

Dr. Connors had come in with Sharon and another nurse Steve didn’t recognize. Dr. Connor’s main concern was Bucky developing a lung abscess. If Bucky developed one, he’d need it drained. Which meant scary, long needles or surgery. The idea of surgery horrified Bucky’s parents. To be on the safe side, Dr. Connors suggested Bucky get x-rays taken in the morning. Steve was surprised when Dr. Connors said that he’d call Steve and tell him the results, despite the entire hospital staff being on red alert to not let Steve work. Bucky wasn’t a distraction from his mother. He was a necessity. Steve needed Bucky, especially now that he didn’t have his mother. But he couldn’t explain that to anyone.

 Steve sighed heavily as the sun had long since dropped behind the curve of the earth. He looked down at the sleeping boy in the bed. He looked _so pale_. Steve’s heart slid into a knot as he felt his whole life being rocked around on an unsteady boat. His mother was dead. She’d been violently taken from him. Bucky lay on a bed with an uncertain future. Peter was in a room two floors below and everyone was so convinced he wasn’t going to make it through. _‘Everyone’s just waiting to die.’_

Steve sat on the rolling chair. He stared at Bucky with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You do this for all your patients?” Winnie asked.

Steve’s lips parted slightly. “Just about.” They didn’t need to know Bucky was his favorite. He’d stay all night. He refused to see Bucky slip from this world so soon. Steve didn’t think he could handle losing someone else so quickly after his mother. He’d…die. He’d simply die.

“We’re gonna take off,” George said as he grabbed his hat. “Thank you for all you’re doing for our son.” He reached out to shake Steve’s hand. Steve nodded, giving a firm handshake. “Please get some shuteye, Dr. Rogers.”

“Have someone call us if anything changes?” Winnie asked.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I’ll try and yes ma’am.”

She smiled brightly at him before going over to kiss her son on the forehead. “Good night, sweet prince,” she said softly. She kissed his forehead again. Bucky mumbled softly and coughed a bit. It was drier than the ones from before. Steve’s stomach warmed at the thought that he could suddenly be getting better.

Once alone, Steve pulled out his phone. He replied to a few texts expressing concern from Sam and Bruce before he searched for the song he’d wanted to dance to with Bucky.

Bucky coughed a few more times. Not so dry as the one from before. Steve felt his stomach chill once more.

He pulled up the song. He didn’t have any speakers, but his phone would be loud enough.

“St-eve?” Bucky croaked. “Y’still ‘ere.” His voice was so fragile Steve was afraid the very light in the room would break it.

“How’re you feeling, baby?”

With eyes closed, Bucky smiled a tired, frail smile. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “Callin’ me baby.”

“I wanted to dance with you, but I don’t know if you’re up for it.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. “I wanna…but m’so tired.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Steve hit the play button on “Smile” by Nat King Cole.

_When there are clouds in the sky−_

_You’ll get by−_

_If you smile through your fear and sorrow…_

Steve came over to the bed, pulling Bucky out from under the covers and holding him bridal style. “Steve!” Bucky tried to protest weakly. “M’no baby.”

“But you’re _my_ baby,” Steve said. “And I wanna dance with _my_ baby.”

Steve swayed softly to the music. Bucky pressed his head against Steve’s shoulder. Bucky was tall, almost as tall as Steve, but he folded into Steve’s arms like a feather against a palm. He fit in Steve’s arms, safe and sound and so, so very _small_.

_Smile and maybe tomorrow−_

_You’ll see the sun come shining through−_

_For you…_

“You doing okay, Bucky?” Steve asked gently as he slowly spun them around. He didn’t want Bucky to get too dizzy.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded. His eyes were closed. He started to tap his feet in the air to the rhythm of the music. “This is nice.”

Steve swayed back and forth to the smooth, mellow voice of Nat King Cole.

_Smile, what’s the use of crying−_

_You’ll find that life is still worth while−_

_If you just smile−_

“Nat King Cole’s one of my favorites,” Steve said as he spun them around again.

“You’re such an old man,” Bucky teased with his sleepy tone. “I like this song.”

“I picked it for a reason,” Steve said as he gently dipped Bucky, just enough for him to feel the sensation but not to actually be considered a real “dip.” He swung them around again, swaying from side to side.

Bucky finally laughed.

“That’s what I was waiting for!” Steve exclaimed. He pressed a kiss atop Bucky’s head. “Smile.”

“You’re a sap,” Bucky mumbled. He still had his eyes closed.

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

_You’ll find that life is still worth while−_

_If you just smile._

The song ended. Steve stood there, holding Bucky in his arms as if he was the most fragile and precious gift bestowed upon this earth. “Wanna dance to it again?”

Bucky nodded. “Put it on repeat.”

Steve put Bucky back down on the bed carefully. He turned to his phone, hitting play again and selecting the repeat option. He turned back around to see Bucky’s mouth slightly ajar. “Buck?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Steve listened to the song play all the way through again as he watched Bucky sleep. He tapped his finger against his knee to the slow rhythm. Steve wanted to measure his life in time. He wanted to measure his thirty-one years with the hours he spent doing activities or the minutes he spent learning about other people. Or the few months he’d known Bucky before he’d really known Bucky.

It was wrong. Life wasn’t to be measured in _time_. It was to be measured in _experience_. Steve had experienced more with Bucky in his short week of being his doctor more than he’d experienced with half of his boyfriends that he’d dated for _years_. When death was always a threat…no chances were taken. Bucky had dived right in and Steve had followed blindly behind. He was along for the ride. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Not anymore. It was like Bucky had imprinted himself onto Steve’s soul.

The song started over once more.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. “Thought we were dancin’,” Bucky said sluggishly.

“I think you’ve had enough dancing for the night.”

“Come hold me.”

Steve pulled the covers back. Bucky scooted over to the side so Steve could get into the bed. Steve took off his shoes. He sighed, looking at the door. Someone would come in. Someone would find them. He couldn’t fall asleep in that bed. He couldn’t let Bucky drool on him all night. He couldn’t even get the satisfaction of falling asleep to the rhythm of Bucky’s breathing. “Just till you fall asleep.”

Steve pulled Bucky into his chest.

“I wanna kiss you,” Bucky said softly.

Steve sighed. “We really shouldn’t.” Bucky wasn’t contagious. After the first twenty-four hours on antibiotics most people were no longer able to spread their ailments. It wasn’t true of all things, but it was of pneumonia at least. “You should sleep.”

“Let me fall asleep kissin’ you?” Bucky pressed. “Please?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Of course he was giving in. He scooted down so Bucky didn’t have to strain himself upwards. Their lips pressed together silently. Bucky’s hands weakly grabbed at Steve’s shirt, balling it up in his fist to secure Steve against him. Steve smiled into the kiss, running his tongue along Bucky’s bottom lip. This boy… This paranoid, obsessed, impulsive, irrational boy… He’d stolen Steve’s heart. He’d completely _devoured_ it and held it safe inside his body. Steve didn’t believe that people could fall in love at first sight. Technically, he didn’t. He’d known Bucky for months. He’d known him at different stages. That kid in Peter’s room. That kid in the hallway. That kid who Steve almost ran into when he turned the corner too quickly. That _kid_ …

Steve’s breath hitched as Bucky’s teeth gently glided against his bottom lip, pulling Steve’s face closer. This kid now… This kid Steve knew as the boy who’d found a way to sweet-talk and bribe himself into Steve’s life. Steve couldn’t be happier about it. This was to be measured in experience. Not time. Steve was truly beginning to _know_ Bucky now.

He ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair, tickling the tip of his tongue against Bucky’s lips as he took a moment to suck air into his lungs.

He knew Bucky only played video games when he was sad, and he was always playing video games at the hospital.

Bucky’s fingers slipped under Steve’s shirt to graze against Steve’s abs.

He knew Bucky loved the color green, or at least he did when he was a child.

Steve pulled Bucky atop him, spreading the boy’s legs at either side of his lap. Bucky whimpered softly into the kiss from the movement, but he simply pressed his hands down against Steve’s chest to steady himself.

He knew Bucky liked being called “baby.”

Steve ran his hands up and down Bucky’s back. He slipped under the hospital gown to feel the rivets of Bucky’s spine as it arched.

He knew Bucky cared about him.

Steve slunk his fingers around Bucky’s chest, circling at the boy’s nipples. He pulled a sharp gasp from those lips that sucked at his own.

He knew Bucky hadn’t given up on life yet…

Bucky’s hands wrapped around Steve’s shoulders as he arched into Steve. His lips pressed heavier against Steve’s as he turned his head to deepen the kiss. He rocked his hips lightly against Steve’s.

Steve felt his cock twitch at the suggestive motion. He rolled up into Bucky. He felt the distinct sensation of his zipper pressing down on his swelling cock. He opened one eye as he looked at the door. No one yet. He could take his chances and keep going, or he could break it now before he got in too deep. Now or never. “B-Bucky?” Steve asked as he broke his lips from Bucky’s.

“Hmm?” Bucky asked as he kissed down Steve’s jaw.

“You should go to sleep.”

“M’not tired anymore,” he replied weakly.

“Someone’s gonna come in though. This is ICU,” Steve reminded. He looked over to the door again. This _was_ the ICU. Nurses and doctors would wander the halls and check on patients at unpredictable times. This was too risky. Steve couldn’t do this despite wanting to _so badly_.

“We don’t have to have sex again,” Bucky said. “Just somethin’ fun.” He traced his tongue over Steve’s lips.

“I’ve created a monster,” Steve laughed out. “A nympho-monster.”

Bucky nodded. “Yup. Touch me, Doc,” Bucky pleaded as he rolled his hips into Steve’s. “I wanna feel your hands on me.”

Steve pulled up Bucky’s gown, looking down at that erect, pink cock as it sprung forth from the dark curls around it. Steve licked at his lips as lust placed a thick film over his eyes. “What about my mouth?” he asked seductively. “Do you wanna feel my mouth on you?”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled as life seemed to explode behind those dark pupils. He nodded his head frantically. “Yeah, Doc. I wanna feel your mouth.”

Bucky rolled off Steve, lying on his back. He licked at his lips expectantly, watching Steve hover over him and kiss at his hip bones. Steve pressed loud kisses from one hip to the other. He knew he didn’t have much time, so teasing Bucky was almost as if he was asking for someone to walk in on him with Bucky’s dick in his mouth— So he went down.

He grabbed at the base of Bucky’s cock to steady it. He gave an experimental lap at the tip, feeling Bucky’s legs go taut as he hissed in sharply. Smiling, Steve looked up at Bucky as he stroked his fingers over Bucky’s length; tracing the veins that bulged from the skin.

“Steve!” Bucky gasped. “Your mouth!”

“Okay, okay!” He looked at Bucky’s cock, semi in awe of how _perfect_ it was. He was circumcised and had the most delicious amount of girth. He was literally a mouthful and Steve _adored_ that. Steve gently balanced Bucky’s dick as he pressed soft kisses down the shaft of it before dancing his tongue up the sides to swirl around the tip. He lapped quickly at the head for a few seconds.

Bucky’s hands grabbed at the bed as he rolled his head back. “O-oh God! _Steve_!”

Steve took the tip into his mouth, nibbling lightly with the lightest of love-bites. Bucky jerked his hips up. Steve pulled up; having felt the tip of Bucky’s cock hit awkwardly in the back of his mouth against his molars. He grabbed at Bucky’s hips, pushing them down to prevent Bucky from jerking up again.

He used his tongue to guide Bucky’s cock into his warm, awaiting mouth. Bucky tasted so _good_. It wasn’t the boring flavor of skin. He was slightly sweet but not like candy. It was more organic than that. More unique and so completely and utterly _Bucky_ ; unique and explosive. Steve lapped at the tip, going over it again and again as he looked up through dark eyelashes at Bucky’s face.

The boy’s brow was furrowed and his mouth was ajar as he breathed heavily. It concerned Steve to see him breathing so frantically but as long as he wasn’t wheezing, Steve felt it was safe to keep going. He’d stop if Bucky started to wheeze.

He squeezed his fingers over Bucky’s hips, feeling the bone protrude from that frail body. He pulled all of Bucky into his mouth, using his tongue to balance it. He sucked up the shaft, making loud wet noises each time his mouth would close against the tip.

“Steve…Steve…ah! Fuck your _fucking_ mouth,” Bucky panted.

He looked up again, watching as Bucky looked down at him. He loved it when he was watched. Smirking, he flicked his tongue over the tip again slowly; adoringly. He circled his tongue around the cockhead, grazing against the dip where head met shaft.

He watched Bucky’s head slam back into the pillows. Pleased with himself, he sucked Bucky’s dick back into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the shaft to feel the veins and its gentle curve. He slid one hand up Bucky’s chest to lightly pinch at a nipple before fingering it in tight circles.

Bucky grabbed at Steve’s hand. He pulled it up to his mouth where he placed kisses against each knuckle, gasping lightly as Steve’s tongue would brush over his tip again. “Steve…Steve I…I think…”

Steve pulled his hand back down, using it to gently caress over Bucky’s sac. He felt Bucky try to jerk away but the bed kept him in place. Smiling, Steve ran his lips back over the sides of Bucky’s cock, not sucking, not kissing, just gentle glides as he worshiped Bucky’s beautiful, reddening, pulsating dick.

“ _Steve_ …” Bucky cried. “More, more please, oh  _please_ more, Doc.”

He covered Bucky’s dick with his mouth again. He hollowed out his cheeks as he pulled more of Bucky into his mouth, allowing the tip to hit the back of his throat. He gagged around it, feeling his muscles tighten and flare as they attempted to push Bucky’s cock away.

Bucky’s legs started to tremble as he mewled out a long, soft vibrato.

He was trying to keep his voice down. At least he was learning…

Steve glided his mouth up and down Bucky’s shaft, feeling his saliva thicken with each dip back down. His nose tickled each time it would brush against Bucky’s soft pubic hairs. He looked up, pleased to see some color in Bucky’s cheeks as they dusted lightly with a soft red.

Bucky’s fingers found their way into Steve’s hair. He pushed Steve’s mouth over his cock, forcing more of himself inside. Steve obliged, not fighting it as he sucked hard against Bucky, allowing fevered, _wet_ sucking sounds to escape his saliva-saturated lips as they’d glide around Bucky’s cock. His tongue traced up the veins, memorizing each curve, each dip and tuck. Steve wanted to memorize each detail about Bucky’s penis. He wanted to remember where it’d start to curve, where it was at its most sensitive and _exactly_ what it tasted like.

“Oh! Oh Steve! Ah! Steve, faster, faster, Steve!” Bucky moaned out as he arched up into Steve’s mouth.

Steve bobbed his head with more speed. He twirled his tongue around the shaft; paying special attention to the underside of Bucky’s tip. It seemed to be where Bucky liked it most. He pressed his tongue against the area, flicking it back and forth quickly.

“Oh! Oh shit! Shit Steve! Shit, shit, _shit_!”

He pressed fevered kisses against the underside, sucking at it and teasing it once more with his tongue; flicking it from side to side, up and down.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!” Bucky cried out. “I can’t…Steve…I…”

Steve sucked all of Bucky’s cock into his mouth. He pressed his tongue flesh against the underside, rolling it along it with ease and sucking hard. He slipped his lips up and down the shaft, watching as Bucky’s mouth dropped open wider, feeling those fingers curl into his hair almost _painfully_.

Bucky’s limbs were trembling desperately for a release as he mewled and gasped with each wet lap or strong pull of Steve’s lips; sucking like Bucky was the most delicious lollipop Steve had ever tasted.

Steve reached up, massaging Bucky’s balls and squeezing them gently in his hands.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh God, oh _God_! Steve! _Steve_! _Fuck_!” Bucky moaned out a bit too loud. Steve’s eyes darted to the door as he felt Bucky’s hot seed splay back into his throat. He focused back down, watching Bucky’s navel get closer and further away from his face as he bobbed up and down, riding out Bucky’s orgasm.

He’d collected all of Bucky’s come into his mouth, holding it inside his mouth; savoring its delectable, bitter taste. He pulled himself up, locking his lips against Bucky’s so he could taste himself. Bucky gasped into the kiss, but he didn’t pull away. Semen was shoved back and forth as tongues slipped in and out of mouths. A line of the murky liquid dribbled down Bucky’s chin and Steve lapped at it fondly.

“You’re sick,” Bucky giggled out. “I like that.”

Steve pressed a kiss against Bucky’s glistening lips. “You’re actually sick.” It had meant to be in jest, but both of them winced at the gravity of those words.

Bucky pressed back into his pillows as he pulled his gown back down. “You’re staying all night, right?”

Steve slid off the bed, licking at the soft tissue of his cheeks. He could still feel Bucky’s cock pressed against them. “Yeah, baby. All night.”

Bucky sighed in content as his eyes fluttered closed. “M’exhausted.”

Steve laughed tightly. “I’ll bet. You warm enough? Need any more blankets? Water?”

Bucky nodded. “Water,” he requested with closed eyes.

Steve grabbed a plastic glass. He went out into the hall to find the water fountain. Luckily it was night shift. Dr. Rumlow wasn’t around. Sam wasn’t around. Sharon wasn’t around. Steve filled the cup up, sighing softly. Three days ago his mother was alive.

He pulled out his phone as he drank from the cup absent-mindedly. He had a few emails; mostly junk, and several texts from Sam.

_YOU BETTER BE HOME!_

_TEXT ME BACK YOU SHITHEAD!_

_DID YOU EAT DINNER? EAT DINNER!!_

Steve laughed as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. He’d let Sam sweat it out a bit more. When he walked back into the room, Bucky was crying.

Steve’s lips parted as terror forced its way into his eyes, tunneling his sight on the boy. Bucky’s body shook violently as he sobbed into his hands.

“Bucky! What’s wrong baby?” Steve asked as he slammed the door, wincing at the sound it’d caused. He put the water down on the nightstand and pulled Bucky into his arms caressing his fingers though Bucky’s hair.

“If I get better I’ll leave you!” he sobbed. “If I don’t get better I’ll _die_!”

Steve’s heart shrank back in his chest. “If you get better, we’ll work something out," he responded timidly. 

Steve had thought of this as well. It wasn’t his goal to keep Bucky here any longer than he needed to be. Once the pneumonia cleared out or it was determined Bucky was safe to go home, Steve would discharge him faster than a bat out of hell. He'd rather have Bucky safe and away from germs than be selfish and risk his life.

“How will I see you?”

Steve rested his chin over Bucky’s head. “We’ll think of something. Don’t worry, Bucky. We won't stop seeing each other.”

“My mom never lets me out of her sight! I’m homeschooled!” Bucky wailed as fat tears streamed down his face. He started to take short bursts of air in and out of his lungs.

“Bucky…Bucky you need to calm down,” Steve said tensely. “Bucky…calm down. Think of the ocean. Think of waves, baby.”

“I-I-I,” Bucky choked out. “I don’t- I don’t- I don’t.” Bucky was full on hyperventilating now. Steve reached for the inhaler. He pressed it to Bucky’s lips.

“Try to suck this in, Bucky,” Steve ordered softly. Bucky's hands pushed at the inhaler as he grabbed at his chest, twisting his gown forcefully in his fingers. “Bucky listen to me…”

Bucky started to wheeze as his lungs clammed in on themselves. He pulled back, arching back against the pillows as he clawed at his throat. Violent hiccuping sounds flowed from Bucky's gaping mouth in uneven bursts. He banged his hands down against the bed.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted. “Bucky you have to listen to me! _Please_ inhale this!”

Steve’s world started to fade. Color drained from the world. Sounds became obtrusive pangs and shrieks as panic surged into Steve. Bucky was in a fit. He’d thrown himself into a fit and he wasn’t listening to Steve. “Bucky!” He pushed the inhaler against the boy’s lips again, pushing down to expel the medication.

The force of Bucky’s gasps pulled the medication in, whether he wanted it or not. His eyes had bulged wide, staring in horror at Steve’s eyes. He never broke his gaze. Steve had never seen someone so afraid before. He could trace each red vein that exploded from Bucky’s eyes. He could see each nightmare Bucky had ever had. Steve felt like the wind was knocked from him.

He pushed down on the inhaler again. And again.

Bucky’s lungs finally relaxed. He started to cough violently, doubling over and clutching at his stomach. His eyes softened as lids came to rest at half-mast.

Steve hit the panic button on the bed.

“Ste-e-e-ve!” Bucky coughed out. “M’gonna…gonna pu—”

He’d never gotten to finish his sentence. Bile expelled from his mouth and down against his gown and bed. Steve heard the door open as someone came in.

“Dr. Rogers!” the person exclaimed in surprise.

Steve barely registered it. Hot, sour liquid soaked into his jeans as he pushed Bucky’s hair back from his sweating face. Bucky coughed again. This was good. Steve was elated. Bucky coughing was a sign he was _breathing_. Vomiting was the body _expelling_ viruses and bacteria. His body was fighting this. Steve didn’t care that someone was in the room. He didn’t care that he was sitting on the bed as vomit soaked into his clothing. Bucky would get through this. Bucky would get better.

His body was fighting this. Dr. Connors was fighting this. _Steve_ was fighting this.

They’d make sure Bucky lived. Tomorrow, they’d check for the lung abscess. If nothing was there, they’d check for a pleural effusion. If Bucky was clean, it just meant he had a nasty, regular case of pneumonia. If he had either condition, it would be treated. Steve had never felt so optimistic before. This was pneumonia. It was treatable. Bucky’s body was fighting it.

Three days ago…Steve had lost his mother. He wouldn’t lose Bucky too; he knew that with absolute certainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that ended on an optimistic note? Right? Maybe? Idk. Was it even any good? Ahhhh!  
> Let me know what you think?? I love hearing from you!!
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/) Please follow me (and tell me if you want to be mutuals and I'll follow you as well!). I want to surround myself with Stucky friends. Always. :)


	5. Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! <3
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has shown support for this story! I really, really, really appreciate it! Knowing I've got support is sometimes the only thing that keeps me going when I feel I don't know what I'm doing with it anymore. <3
> 
> Also, you may or may not have noticed, **I changed some of the tags and added some.** If any of the new tags bother you, please stop reading this story, I do NOT want to be the reason you have a bad fanfiction experience. 
> 
> Lastly, **this chapter contains some references to laws on statutory rape** , the NY Model Penal Code that is mentioned is specific to New York statute only. The United States Code is FEDERAL LAW, meaning it is a blanket statement across the ENTIRE country, (which means you can now say that the legal age of consent is 16 NATION WIDE). There are exceptions, you will learn some of them in this chapter. Please note I am a 2nd year law student (not prelaw, ACTUAL LAW SCHOOL) and I know my shit about the law, haha. I'm NOT leading you astray with these laws. I have them quoted down to the very sections and please, look them up if you'd like!

Bucky lay on the suede sofa, clicking his shoes together as he fidgeted. He was supposed to attend weekly therapy with Dr. Jarvis since being released from the hospital. Ever since he saw Steve last… Two weeks ago. After a nasty case of pneumonia, Bucky thought he was sure to die but somehow his body just decided it wasn’t done torturing him yet. So, in an effort to provide more torture, Bucky was healed…which meant he was released from the hospital, which meant he wasn’t going to see Steve anymore, which meant that he’d rather be dead now. He missed Steve like an addict missed their drug of choice. It left a hollow place in his stomach, a hunger that he could never fill; an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He hadn’t heard from Steve, not once, since leaving. Steve had missed Bucky’s seventeenth birthday. Granted, it had just been Bucky and his parents going out to dinner, but Bucky surely thought Steve would have said something to him, somehow, for turning seventeen. It meant one more year and he’d be legal. One more year and they wouldn’t have to hide anymore…

_‘If I live that long…’_

On the day of Bucky’s discharge, Steve had promised he’d find a way to see him. They’d talked about potentially going to movies together and in the dark of the theater, they’d find each other. They talked about flea markets and bumping into each other (even if Bucky’s parents would be around, it was still worth it to see Steve). They’d talked about Steve even doing a few home-visits to check on Bucky’s well-being.

None of it happened. Bucky wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone, but he had email and he’d been sly to leave that written on his pillow with one of the fancy pens that Steve always had in his coat pocket. He prayed Steve saw it. It’d been two weeks. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe that’s why Steve didn’t wish Bucky a happy birthday. Bucky _hated_ birthdays. He hated knowing that his mortal time clock was ticking whether he wanted it to or not, but the only good thing that could have come from his forced aging would have been Steve wishing him well and to have a good day…which never happened. So, after dinner, Bucky had spent the rest of the night crying. Crying because he was slowly dying and crying because Steve hadn’t said a single thing to him.

“Bucky?” Dr. Jarvis inquired, tilting his head to the side. “Did you hear me?”

“What? Oh– no.”

Dr. Jarvis took in a deep breath and scribbled something on his notepad. Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he was just doing word puzzles… “I asked you if there’s anyone you feel particularly comfortable around.”

“No,” Bucky answered blankly. He looked to his feet again, clicking his converses together once more.

“Not even your parents?” Dr. Jarvis inquired.

“Nope.”

“Why’s that?”

Bucky sighed heavily. This was exhausting. He hated this and it was only the second time he’d seen Dr. Jarvis. Still, these two hour sessions were grueling and Bucky had broken down and cried after the last one. Dr. Jarvis brought up things about Bucky’s fears and his lack of life experience and it was just…too much. It was too much a kick in the face and Bucky couldn’t take feeling so raw and exposed.

“I trust my doctor,” Bucky ventured. He looked over to Dr. Jarvis with hopeful, bright eyes; a soft smile twitching against his lips.

“Dr. Rogers? Or Dr. Conners?”

“Dr. Rogers,” Bucky said immediately. “I trust him.”

“Because he’s your doctor?” Dr. Jarvis pressed.

Bucky swung his legs over the couch cushions, now shaking his knees as he gripped the edges with excited fingers. “Well, he saved my life. I was dyin’ and he cured me.”

“Dr. Conners cured you, Bucky,” Dr. Jarvis corrected. “He took care of you when you were in the ICU.”

“Dr. Rogers came to visit me when his mom died. He wasn’t workin’ or nothin’ and he stayed and talked to me. That saved me.” Bucky was offended Dr. Jarvis had the audacity to even question Steve’s abilities. Steve had been his primary physician at the hospital for a month now.

“You don’t think medicine saves people?”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “It does, but it also kills people. I read more people die in surgery tryin’ to fix shit than they do dyin’ to why they got the surgery in the first place.”

Dr. Jarvis scribbled something on his notepad, pushing up his black glasses. “That’s not entirely accurate, Bucky. Surgery is often a last effort. Medication and other treatments are used which often cure people before they ever even need surgery.”

“Yeah but, Dr. Rogers still saved me.” His heart was fluttering. He wanted to talk about Steve so badly. He wanted to talk about what it felt like to have his heart practically explode from his chest when he came into Steve’s wet, hot mouth. He wanted to talk about how it felt to fall asleep in Steve’s big arms. He wanted to talk about Steve’s hand at his back, drawing little circles against it, as Bucky puked up an ocean into a bucket.

“Would you consider yourself comfortable around Dr. Rogers?” Dr. Jarvis asked.

“Yup. I’ve puked in front of him, and he’s tested my piss, so, I figure there ain’t much left that’ll surprise ‘em,” Bucky mumbled. _God_ , he wanted to talk about Steve so badly. Not having anyone to share secrets with was _killing_ him. Since he couldn’t see Steve, talking about him was the only thing he had left.

“What about people your age?”

No, he was moving the conversation away from Steve. Bucky hated that. His licked slowly at his lips, racking his brain to find some way to keep talking about Steve. “Peter’s my age. He’s in the hospital. Dr. Rogers also takes care of him.”

Dr. Jarvis tilted his head to the other side now, still taking notes. “Do you find yourself comfortable with Peter?”

Bucky scowled. “Yeah, but I can’t tell him everything. I can tell Dr. Rogers everything.” He was pushing it, he knew it. He saw Dr. Jarvis’ eyebrows flick up. He saw the twitch of the man’s lips as he scribbled more notes down. Bucky had to stop talking about Steve. Thank _God_ there was patient-doctor confidentiality, otherwise Bucky was sure Dr. Jarvis would be telling his parents about his obsession with Steve any second.

“Bucky,” Dr. Jarvis began. His tone was tired, frank. “How do you feel about Dr. Rogers?”

_‘He’s the best damn doctor in the whole fucking world and he’s beautiful and I’m so in love with him and I swear to God I’ll go insane if I don’t see him soon.’_

“H-how do I feel?” Bucky stumbled over the words. “I…”

“Do you feel Dr. Rogers is like a friend, or is he purely your doctor?”

“He’s…he’s a friend, too. He really cares. But he cares about all his patients.” Bucky was trying to reel in what he’d let fall out. He’d talked too much. He’d said the wrong things! Panic was surging through his veins, weighing him down and making him feel like lead. He wanted to get up. He wanted to take a drink from the glass on the wooden table by the couch, but he _couldn’t_ move.

“Do you think Dr. Rogers considers you a friend? Or do you think he’s just doing his job?”

_‘Why’re you asking me these questions, you shithead. I’ll fight you if you say one more thing about Steve…’_

Bucky didn’t respond. He didn’t want to. The thought of lying and saying Steve considered him only a friend made his skin crawl and stating that he was just doing his job was a load of crap, because Steve wasn’t just doing his job when he was literally _doing_ Bucky. He wasn’t going to give Dr. Jarvis the sick satisfaction of feeling like he’d somehow gotten a breakthrough into Bucky’s case. Fuck this guy.

“Our time’s almost up, just one more question, Bucky,” Dr. Jarvis said after a long minute of silence.

Bucky looked over at the man, watching him scribble an unusually long note into his notes. Bucky winced, wondering what he was writing.

“Do you find yourself sexually attracted to Dr. Rogers?”

Bucky’s eyes rounded as he let his lips fall open. His blood ran cold and halted where it flowed. His heart felt like it was choking on something chunky and grimy. He took in a big breath. There was no way he could lie. Everything was on his face already. Dr. Jarvis was already writing down more notes! What was Bucky supposed to do?! “Please don’t tell my parents,” he finally meekly pleaded. “Please, Dr. Jarvis, please don’t tell my parents.”

Dr. Jarvis closed his notepad, taking his glasses off. “I don’t make it a practice to belittle the trust my patients have with me. Your parents will get your updates, but they won’t get the specifics, Bucky. This is a safe place.”

Bucky closed his eyes, sighing out the breath he’d been holding. It felt like giant stones were lifting from his chest. His body free and light again as he stood up to shake Dr. Jarvis’ hand. “So…next time? We can talk about anything? And you won’t tell my parents?”

“I’m under oath, Bucky,” Dr. Jarvis reminded. “I won’t tell your parents anything you don’t want me to.”

A small smile tugged at Bucky’s features. He hadn’t trusted Dr. Jarvis at first. He barely even spoke to the guy the first time but now…maybe he could be the one person Bucky opened up to about Steve, at least so Bucky didn’t blurt it out to someone else who could actually get Steve in trouble…

* * *

 

Bucky sat at his computer. His room felt colder than usual. He looked around the darkened room (he kept a blanket over the window to keep the sun out). It was messy, just like he’d left it before he went to the hospital. He missed the open, antiseptic smell of the hospital. He missed the soft footsteps in the hallways and the excitement Bucky had when he thought those feet might be Steve’s. He opened his email. A glimmer of hope shooting into his heart as he watched the page load.

Nothing.

Bucky’s heart squeezed in on itself. He lay is head down next to his keyboard. What if Steve hadn’t seen his email address? What if Steve had been lying to him about making this work? Tears rushed into Bucky’s eyes. He stayed like that, letting the tears pool against his arm as he stared at his computer screen. Steve was probably working. Maybe he just didn’t have time to sit and email Bucky?

_‘But he said he’d find a way…and he’s not…’_

“Bucky!” his mother called from the first floor. “Dinner, sweetie!”

Bucky wasn’t hungry. He pushed his chair back, huffing and dragging his feet as he walked toward the door. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he gave himself a minute to calm down. He needed to show face. He needed to pretend that everything was okay otherwise his parents would poke and prod. Steve was just busy… that had to be it. Steve was just busy…

* * *

 

It’d been three weeks now since he last saw Steve. Bucky checked his email every day. Aside from the various junk emails, he wasn’t getting anything from Steve. Bucky had convinced himself that Steve just hadn’t seen his scribbled email atop the pillow. Perhaps a nurse had come in and cleaned the room before Steve was able to check it. Maybe Steve never went back into rooms after patients were released. That had to be it. That was Bucky’s story and he was sticking to it. He couldn’t allow his mind to believe Steve had been lying. That would destroy him. It would eat at his bones, seep into his pores and clog the life right out of Bucky. Steve had to care about him. He had to be thinking about Bucky as much as Bucky was thinking about Steve.

Bucky got an idea…

He coughed. It was fake. He coughed again. Again. Again. He coughed over and over till his voice was raw and his pretend coughing sounded like brutal, true wheezing from the deepest pits of his lungs. He smiled, proud of himself. He needed to see Steve again.

Bucky walked into the living room, wrapping a hand around his throat as he looked at his parents. They were snuggled on the couch together under the blanket. Bucky coughed again.

Both of them looked up, eyes wide with horror. “Sweetie,” Bucky’s mom breathed out. “Are you okay?” She crossed the room to feel at Bucky’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I don’t feel good,” Bucky mumbled. He coughed again.

“Maybe we should take him to the hospital? Just to be sure?” Bucky’s dad suggested. Bucky had to stifle the smile that had attempted to burst from his lips.

“If you don’t want to go to the hospital though, sweetie, we can find another way. Perhaps  your old family doctor?”

“N-no!” Bucky answered in a panic. “Hospital’s fine. M’scared.”

His mother pulled him into her chest, stroking his head softly as she sighed against his head. She was shorter than him, but he still crumpled into her body like he always had as a child. “It’s okay to be scared, sweetie. We’ll take you to see Dr. Rogers. He’ll fix you right up.”

Bucky’s heart swelled. Finally.

* * *

 

It’d been three weeks since Steve saw Bucky. He would have tried to contact him except he felt that emailing Bucky left too much of a trail. He’d contemplated calling their house and asking to speak to Bucky but even then, most doctors didn’t do that and Steve didn’t want to raise any suspicion within Bucky’s parents. This was so much harder than Steve had thought. His heart ached every day he woke up for work. The hospital didn’t feel the same. Even Peter noticed the life in Steve’s eyes had dulled. Steve went through the motions of being a doctor. He asked the right questions, checked the right IV bags, but he felt numb. Bucky had given his life meaning again. Bucky had ignited a spark in Steve’s stomach and was the fuel that kept it burning. Now, Steve was a shell. Consumed with wanting to see Bucky but being terrified of actually taking a chance to see him in fear that someone would find out and then everything would be over _and_ Steve would be left behind bars with literally nothing but the memories of when he was a good doctor. A good doctor who didn’t engage in sexual activity with his underaged patients. A good doctor who was bright and kind; lively and optimistic. A good doctor who healed. A good doctor.

Steve wasn’t a good doctor anymore. He was just a doctor. He blew off Peter’s talks. He ducked out exactly at seven when his shift was over. He didn’t volunteer to cover different shifts for other doctors asking for help. He watched TV into the late hours of the night with Cap sitting on the couch, his arms casually tossed around his dog. He ate frozen meals from the freezer section of his grocery. He didn’t go out to the bars with Sam and Bruce.

Everyone thought it was because Steve was still suffering over his mother’s death and yes, he was. He would always carry the guilt of not being there when his mother had needed him the most but there wasn’t anything he could have done. She’d been dying. He should have been there to say goodbye, but he wasn’t. Steve was upset his mother was dead. Steve would never have a full, beating heart again. But Steve was more upset he couldn’t see Bucky. Bucky became the life Steve needed to save, the one he wouldn’t let get away, like he’d let his mother’s life slip through his fingers. But now Bucky was gone too… What was left for Steve?

“Steve,” Sharon said as she jogged over to him. She looked to be in panic mode. A few of the other nurses had been cut due to budget constraint and she along with the rest of the staff was expected to pick up the pace. Steve found it disgusting. Nurses were the backbone of hospital society. Remove them and you crumble the entire infrastructure to the ground. “Bucky’s back.”

“What?” Steve responded incredulously. “Is he okay? Is he here for just a checkup?” Steve’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t deny the tingle of excitement that stirred in his stomach.

“He’s got a nasty cough. No fever. No phlegm. Just a cough. We’re going to do a blood test just to be on the safe side.”

“I’ll go see him,” Steve said as he started walking in the direction of the nurses’ station. He’d need to see what room he was put in.

“Steve,” Sharon cautioned as she grabbed his wrist. “His parents are with him.”

Steve furrowed his brow, looking Sharon up and down. Why would that matter? Steve had his suspicions about Sharon but she really gave him no reason to be concerned, but her telling him this…again… He twitched his mouth in an uneasy smile; his eyes set as cold, calculating confusion filtered into them. “Thanks,” he responded hesitantly, attempting to size her intentions up.

He looked up Bucky’s room and then was promptly on his way to see him. So Bucky’s parents were here. That was okay. Steve had met them. They hadn’t really bothered him before. Steve didn’t exactly get the best read on them but he knew they really loved their son, and in the end that’s all that really mattered.

Steve knocked on the door, taking a giant breath as he tried to calm his fraying nerves. He couldn’t explain to Bucky why he hadn’t emailed. He couldn’t explain why he hadn’t seen Bucky. This was going to be…this was going to be…

_‘So awkward…’_

Steve walked into the room. Bucky was on the bed, sitting up straight and looking over expectantly at Steve. He wore the brightest smile Steve had ever seen. His lips were full and red. His cheeks lightly brushed pink and his eyes were sparkling with life and excitement.

_‘He’s not sick…’_

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes,” Steve greeted warmly, offering his hand out to shake theirs in turn. “Look who just can’t seem to wanna leave us!” It was his painfully optimistic and slightly goofy doctor voice. The one he used on patients when he didn’t know them very well…or he was hiding something. And he was certainly hiding something now.

“He started coughing last night,” Mrs. Barnes said. “We just wanted to be on the safe side.”

“Sure thing,” Steve said as he looked over Bucky’s chart. Steve looked up with a knowing glance, his eyes sparkling in amusement. Bucky was lying. Part of Steve was impressed Bucky knew how to work his parents this much, but the other part was downright terrified Bucky would put himself into a hospital again after getting pneumonia from it! “How ya feeling, Bucky?”

Bucky took in a deep breath, looking up at a corner in the room. “My throat’s scratchy and m’coughin’ a lot.”

Steve pulled over one of the rolling chairs and slid into it as he smacked on some latex gloves. He pumped it up to its highest point so he could lean over and gently feel around against Bucky’s throat. No lumps. No enlarged glands. _‘You little shit…’_

“When’d you start coughing?” Steve asked as he placed his hands back in his lap.

“Last night?” Bucky offered. Steve’s eyes narrowed. He was making this up as he went. The least Bucky could have done was look online at some symptoms that didn’t necessarily require coughing…

Steve spun around on the chair, grabbing a small flashlight and a flat, wooden stick. “Open your mouth and say “ah,” he instructed.

“Ahhh,” Bucky said as he stuck his tongue out. Steve pressed against his tongue with the stick, looking back at his uvula and throat. No swelling. No dots. No sign of infection. Bucky was fine.

“Well,” Steve began as he rolled over to Bucky’s chart and started jotting down some notes. “You don’t have a fever, so that’s good. Your throat feels good. Sharon’s gonna do some blood work to make sure we’re not missing anything but you may just be having a mild allergic reaction to something in your house. Maybe dust? Do you have a clean room?”

Mr. Barnes snorted. “He’s like any other teenager. Room’s a friggen tornado.”

Steve smiled warmly at Bucky, his eyes saying everything. _‘I know you’re not sick…’_ “Welp, looks like my prescription is going to be you cleaning your room, young man,” Steve said as he clicked his pen a few times. “Happy late birthday, by the way.”

Bucky’s eyes shimmered, tears glazing against them as he offered the most _adorable_ smile Steve had ever seen. Steve’s heart wanted nothing more than to cozy up against Bucky’s and hold him till the sun went down. “Th-thanks, Dr. Rogers,” Bucky breathed out. He pressed his knuckles into the bed he sat atop of.

“What’d your parents get you for your birthday?” Steve asked. He figured pleasant chatter such as this, even in front of Bucky’s parents, wouldn’t hurt. He made himself look busy, grabbing Bucky’s chart and reviewing the last time Bucky was here, as if Steve hadn’t already committed it to memory. He’d remembered the terror he felt at the threat of losing Bucky to his illness.

“Clothes and books,” Bucky answered unenthusiastically. He grimaced.

Steve barked out a laugh. He looked over to Bucky’s parents and smiled brightly. “No more video games, huh?”

“We’re trying to encourage him to read,” Winifred answered. She smiled, unsure of herself. Something about her eyes… they were always sad, like Bucky’s.

“Reading is boring,” Bucky mumbled. “I asked for a phone.”

“We told you, you’re not getting a phone till you’re eighteen. You don’t even have a license yet,” George stated sternly.

Steve cleared his throat, reminding them no one needed to start fighting at the moment _and_ Steve didn’t feel like putting himself through the turmoil of being reminded just how young Bucky was, seventeen or not. God though, Steve loved thinking about that. One more year and Bucky could actually be _his_.

_‘If he doesn’t die first…’_

It felt like a cold hand reached into his body and wrapped itself around his lower spine and just _yanked_. He stiffened in his rolling chair, looking over at Bucky with the softest ghost of a smile against his lips, anything to show Bucky that he still cared. Anything that settled the storm that he was sure Bucky had been experiencing. It hadn’t been fair. It was cruel but Steve didn’t know what to do! It would have been easier if Bucky had a phone. He could have explained why he never followed through with the options he suggested. He could have sent little texts simply stating he was thinking of him…every time minutes… he could have said so much with so little but he’d been _so_ afraid. Thinking about it now, a phone would be just as bad as email. Texts were similar. He actually dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

“Dr. Rogers?”

Steve looked up, seeing both Mr. and Mrs. Barnes with looks of concern floating about their faces. “Are you okay?” Mr. Barnes asked.

Steve looked over to Bucky as panic settled in the back of his throat. “I… I forgot to order the blood test. I’ll be right back.” Steve walked briskly out of the room. He hated having Bucky’s parents here. He needed to apologize. He needed to explain what an idiot he’d been. Christ, it had been three weeks and he hadn’t talked to Bucky _once_ during that time and here Bucky was, a last ditch effort, a desperate attempt at saying he was still here and he was endangering himself because Steve hadn’t left him with any other choice!

Steve smacked the back of his head against the wall. He was a fucking idiot.

“Steve?” Sharon asked as she sat at the nurses’ station. “You good?” She tapped a pen against her pink lips.

“I’m just an idiot,” Steve breathed out. He pulled himself off the wall, walking over to Sharon. “Do you care about doing his blood work now?”

“Do you think he’s faking it?” Sharon asked sitting up.

Steve’s heart sputtered in his chest. He swallowed hard, lacing his brows heavily against his eyes. “W-what?”

“I mean, he’s fine. He’s got a good body temperature, his face has color, he seems lively, kinda excited. I think he’s faking it.”

“You start assuming our patients are faking and then you start misdiagnosing,” Steve chastised. “Please go take his blood.”

“I thought you wanted to? Since you did last time?”

Steve huffed in annoyance. He was already pissed at himself for being the biggest idiot on the planet. He’d subjected Bucky to weeks of no communication and torment all because he was afraid of a “trail” that would have been easily as traced if Bucky had a phone. He had just done the “overly-happy doctor” spiel on Bucky’s parents and by default, Bucky as well, leaving Bucky probably with whiplash from the confusion. And now Sharon was sitting here jabbing him with these strange questions that were grating the wrong way against Steve’s skin, making him feel like someone was trying to tickle him with sandpaper.

“Just go in there and take his blood, please?” Steve asked through clenched teeth. He dropped his head into his hands as he leaned against the nurses’ station. Christ, today wasn’t his day. He just wanted to find a way to get Bucky alone. He needed to apologize. It felt like he’d eaten rocks, his stomach was heavy as guilt toiled about in it.

Sharon stared at Steve for a moment, her eyes flicking from side to side as she analyzed him. He stayed still. He didn’t want to be a jerk, but he was panicking. He didn’t know where to go from here. After that blood test, Bucky would be sent home. “W-wait,” Steve said. He closed his eyes for a moment. This was the moment that they warned him about in med school. This was the number one reason why he wasn’t supposed to engage in a romantic relationship with a patient. “I don’t think he’s faking.”

Sharon cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow. “Really?”

“He could have an infection that we just can’t see yet. We should just get him on some antibiotics while we wait for the lab results. Keep him just for the night.”

_‘Oh my God, I’m going to prison…’_

Sharon put a hand on her hip, looking at Steve quizzically. “You sure that’s a good idea, Steve? He could catch something around here.”

Steve rolled his lips in, nodding softly. “Yeah. I think it’s the safest thing. We don’t wanna accidently miss anything.”

“Alright,” Sharon said, shrugging. “I’ll go tell them.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. He felt hollow. It was like there were two souls inside his body, one, the ideal image of a physician; critical, logical and compassionate– do no harm. The other side, _his_ soul, the one with emotions and feelings and attachments that were starting to run so deep that he didn’t know where he ended and Bucky began…that one– was doing circles around his other soul, the soul that should be winning.

Steve was actively endangering Bucky’s life by keeping him here for _no reason._ All because he wanted to see Bucky. This could get his license revoked. If anyone found out about this… If something happened to Bucky, the hospital could be sued. Steve could be imprisoned. Worst of all, Sharon _knew_ this. She was smart. She wasn’t Steve’s favorite because she was cute; she was his favorite because she knew how to make the right calls. She knew in her gut when a child had cancer or just a runny nose. She knew Bucky wasn’t sick and she was letting Steve make this horrible judgment call _because_ she knew something was up.

Steve felt hot. Sweat clung to his body, making him feel like he was wrapped in cellophane. He walked quickly to the bathroom, shoving the door open, letting it hit the wall and bending over a sink. He splashed water against his face, trying to cool down. “What are you doing, Rogers?” he asked himself. “You hurt that kid…you get him sick and…” His voice cracked. He felt a lump lodge itself in his throat. This was wrong. This was so, entirely, completely, absolutely _wrong_. But he was doing it. All because he wanted to wrap his arms around Bucky. All because he wanted to press his lips against those soft, curved, red ones. “Fuck…” he cringed.

_‘What am I becoming?’_

* * *

 

Bucky sat atop the bed, still in his street clothes, a simple Rolling Stones tee and skinny jeans with mismatched socks. Sharon said they want him to stay overnight but he didn’t have to wear a gown. She actually brought him some blue scrubs to wear. Bucky thought it was an attempt at not letting him start to freak out about staying in the hospital for a night. Ironically, it was comforting to be within these walls again. Bucky had always associated the hospital with anxiety, death and mortality. Now, he associated it with hope, Steve and comfort.

Steve…

Steve hadn’t been on his game. He was stiff, overly-friendly and…weird. Bucky saw the smiles, he saw the warmth that danced behind Steve’s irises but he wasn’t sure if that was part of the act or not. Was Steve okay with Bucky being here? Was he upset? Had he really planned on slipping out of Bucky’s life after he got sent home from the hospital? Bucky’s heart twisted in his chest as he tried to focus on his breathing. Steve wouldn’t do that to him…not after the things he’d said and done. Everything had happened so fast, Bucky knew it. But Bucky was never guaranteed a tomorrow and there was so much he wanted to do! Maybe Steve couldn’t handle that. Maybe Steve was bored already?  Bucky’s throat clenched as he fought back a sob. He wouldn’t cry. He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know how Steve felt.

 He wished his parents hadn’t been there when Steve came to see him. They could have talked and Bucky would have known where he stood with Steve. He could have confessed that this was all just a ruse and he should be sent home if Steve didn’t want him anymore. Did Steve really not want him anymore? It’d been several hours since Steve came to check on him. Sharon had come to take his blood, tell him he was staying overnight and now his parents were downstairs grabbing a late lunch and Bucky… Bucky was sitting here, arms wrapped around his torso as he stared at the door, straining to hear as a pair of footsteps got closer to his door. He hoped those feet belonged to someone that meant more to him than a clean bill of health.

The door opened. Bucky’s heart lurched into his throat.

Steve walked in. He looked a lot more relaxed this time. He walked over to Bucky, crossing the room with a sense of urgency that made Bucky nervous. Bucky was going to speak when Steve grabbed his face and pressed his lips against Bucky’s. It was a smoother kiss without Steve’s beard. Bucky didn’t mind it either way; he liked the sting of beard burn, but he also liked this. As Steve’s tongue filtered into his mouth, Bucky’s whole body was overcome with relief. Steve still cared. It wasn’t over. This was okay… Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he fisted his fingers into Steve’s lab coat, pulling him closer till Steve was atop him, straddling him. He was so much bigger than Bucky, but Bucky didn’t care. He slipped his fingers under Steve’s shirt as he lapped his tongue against Steve’s. He let his hands run over the rivets of Steve’s abdomen, feeling the smooth, marble skin; hot to the touch.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbled against Bucky’s lips. Bucky felt a shiver zip down his spine. He rocked his hips up into Steve accidently. “M’sorry I’m an idiot! I was scared. I was scared and I didn’t know what I was doing. I won’t do that to you again.” He pressed soft kisses against Bucky’s cheeks, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s.

Bucky was confused at first. Steve was apologizing but he wasn’t entirely sure what Steve had done wrong until… “Did you see my email address?”

Steve nodded, pulling Bucky’s face into his hands. He kissed at the tip of Bucky’s nose. “I didn’t want a paper trail. I wanted to call your house but…” He bit his lip, letting his long lashes dust over his cheeks. Bucky wanted to reach up and just _touch_ them. “I just was so scared of getting caught.”

“S’okay,” Bucky breathed out, letting a smile brighten his face. “I knew you didn’t abandon me.”

Steve winced. It’d been quick but Bucky had seen it. Something like fear had glossed over Steve’s eyes, tightening his pupils and making his body rigid for a moment, but it all settled away. Steve was kissing Bucky’s face again. “I won’t leave you.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, whining softly. “Pick me up.”

Steve chuckled, but scooped Bucky up, pulling his legs around his torso as he laced his lips into Bucky’s once more. He ran his tongue along Bucky’s bottom lip before letting it flick into the brunette’s mouth. Bucky circled Steve’s tongue with his own, giggling softly as he felt Steve roll his hips into him.

“My parents’ll be back soon,” Bucky breathed out. “We can’t do anything now.”

Steve groaned in disappointment. Bucky felt like his head was spinning. He _loved_ seeing the lust that glazed against Steve’s pupils, blowing them wide and making him look more feral than a calm, cool doctor.

Bucky brought his hands up to run the pads of his fingers over Steve’s soft face. “I like you without the beard.”

“Eh, makes me look younger,” Steve dismissed.

“I think it makes you look hot,” Bucky countered playfully. He nipped at the apple of Steve’s cheek lightly. “And younger isn’t a bad thing when you’re dating me, right?”

Steve laughed, putting Bucky down. “You’re not in a gown.”

Bucky cocked a brow. “Sharon brought me scrubs. Haven’t changed yet. I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About what?” Steve asked quickly.

Bucky hopped back onto the bed, grabbing the blue scrubs and running his fingers along the hems. “I was just scared, s’all.”

“Bucky…”

Bucky looked up, watching as Steve shuffled from side to side. He looked like there was a storm raging on inside that mind. “I just got nervous you didn’t want me anymore,” he shrugged. He wouldn’t let Steve know about the times he’d cried at the computer. He wouldn’t talk about having to practically force-feed himself. Bucky didn’t want Steve knowing that side of him. He wanted Steve to stop seeing him as the sickly kid in the bed and more of a person who Steve could go out with… meet up at the movies with or take to dinner. Not that they would be…but Bucky wanted to prove how _healthy_ he could be. That he wasn’t always doom and gloom…

_‘Until I get sick again…’_

Steve crossed the room, grabbing Bucky’s fingers and kissing each digit. “I was an _idiot_. I wanna be with you. I’m just…I’m scared too.”

Bucky pulled his fingers back, slipping from the bed and standing to remove his shirt. Steve didn’t say anything so Bucky dropped his pants too and reached for the scrubs. Steve’s hands came up to grab at Bucky’s hipbones.

“You’re body’s beautiful,” Steve said. “You look good, healthy.”

Bucky snorted, swatting at Steve’s hand. “Do you want my parents to come in and see you groping their son?” Bucky was sure his playful smirk and heated skin was betraying him. He was loving the attention, the dire need Steve had to be close to him. It felt _so good_ to be wanted like this, after having wanted Steve for so long, after weeks of uncertainty and a shrink as his only friend. It felt so nice to see Steve and be reminded that someone really cared, someone familiar and beautiful. _‘Someone to remember me when I’m dead…’_

Steve pressed his body close, grabbing Bucky’s hand and slowly swaying them from side to side, like a dance. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like. If people knew how I felt about you.”

Bucky pressed his face into Steve’s chest, dancing to no music with Steve; swaying in his boxers. “Mmm, I’m actually dancin’ with you.” He hadn’t meant to ignore Steve’s statement. Bucky wasn’t prepared to go down that route even if he wanted to. If people knew, Steve would be taken away. He’d be brandished a pedophile and a crook. He’d be labeled a terrible doctor and any child that he ever helped would feel their skin crawl as they thought back on the doctor that decided to date a kid. Bucky huffed, still swaying with Steve. He was a kid; a seventeen-year-old kid, but still a kid, no matter how he actually saw himself.

When life was but given for a short time, Bucky felt that years were measured differently, like dog years. Sure, a dog was two years old but because they grew up faster than humans and from their shorter lifespans, they were really fourteen in human years. Bucky felt like a dog. He may be seventeen, but to him, he was already fifty.

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve responded warmly, bringing Bucky out of his thoughts. “You are.”

Bucky heard his mother’s laugh from down the hall. He pulled back, feeling electric pulse down his spine in a panic as he grabbed at the scrubs and pulled them on. “Shit!” he hissed. “I hear my mom.”

Steve backed up, grabbing at the black, rolling stool that he always sat in and promptly sat in it. He pulled out Bucky’s file and just waited for the door to open.

Bucky sat on the bed, feeling his heart beating heavily within his chest. He swung his legs back and forth as he waited for his parents in anticipation.

Together, his parents walked in. He smiled awkwardly at them, looking back to Steve and then back to them again just in case they suspected anything.

“Dr. Rogers!” Bucky’s mom greeted. “We were actually just talking about Bucky staying the night here.”

Steve let his lips part just the slightest bit as he raised his brows in anticipation. Bucky had to suck his lips into his mouth to keep from whining. _God_ he just wanted to take Steve’s lips against his mouth and kiss them till both of them had chapped, dry, bruised lips.

“Bucky’s been seeing Dr. Jarvis like you wanted. He suggests Bucky have a roommate when he’s here, like you did,” Mom continued to say.

“Oh really?” Steve asked; his voice cracked. Bucky couldn’t hide the smile that toyed with his face. Steve was feigning happiness but Bucky could see the slight panic under those blue eyes.

“If it’s only for the night,” Bucky’s father spoke up. “Then he can stay with Peter, if Peter’s still alone.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected that. Bucky’s dad wasn’t the most supportive person of homosexuality, but things seemed to have settled down since Bucky came home from the hospital. Either his father felt guilty about the whole thing or he’d just started to accept it and not even tell Bucky about it. There was also the option Dr. Jarvis had intervened on his behalf. Bucky guessed the guy wasn’t so bad…for a shrink. “Dad…” Bucky squeaked. “R-really?”

Steve stood up, no longer being able to hide the shock on his face. He looked over to Bucky, as if silently asking if this was okay. Bucky nodded.

He knew this would ruin their chances of being together alone, but Peter… Peter was Bucky’s best friend. Peter had cancer. Bucky wasn’t sure when his last chance would be to see Peter and he wasn’t sure if it would be because Peter would die or he would die. Either way, Bucky wanted to see Peter just about as much as he wanted to be in Steve’s arms. Maybe even telling Peter would be okay? He’d always been so supportive of it.

“I’ve been…harsh,” Dad spoke. “You’re a teenager, not a baby. Peter’s always been a good friend, even if his…lifestyle…isn’t exactly normal.”

“That’s my lifestyle too, Dad,” Bucky growled lowly. His gaze flashed over to Steve who was looking rather uncomfortable now in the room. He was gripping the sink with his hands, his knuckles were turning white.

“I know that Bucky,” his father continued. “But, how do you know? You haven’t even dated a _girl_.”

Bucky couldn’t decide if he was dying or not. His feet were hot and his stomach was tying itself into so many knots he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel normal again. His tongue swelled about three times its size as it lay, flaccid and useless in his mouth. His brain was murky. He wanted to snap back. He wanted to tell his father how wrong he was but…he wasn’t allowed. He couldn’t do that.

“If…” Steve interjected. “If Bucky’s fine with rooming with Peter, I’ll let Sharon know and switch him over there.”

“Will you ever accept it?” Bucky asked weakly, his tongue still feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. He coughed. It wasn’t fake. It felt like every breath he took tickled the back of his throat with a feather.

His father shifted uncomfortably. “I accept that you need to figure out who you are.”

“We just want you to be comfortable, sweetie,” Bucky’s mom piped up. “Peter’s your friend and you miss him, right?”

“So you don’t accept it? You think it’s just a phase? An idea?” Bucky spat; knowing exactly why his father was choosing the words he was. “ _Christ_ , seriously, Dad?”

“I think I…” Steve said hesitantly, backing toward the door.

“No, Steve,” Bucky said. He cursed inwardly as he realized his slip, but he was pissed. His father was letting him stay with Peter, but it had nothing to do with the fact that his son hadn’t seen his friend in _weeks_ and had everything to do with the fact that his father honestly thought if Bucky was in contact with a boy who liked boys, that Bucky would suddenly figure out he didn’t like boys anymore! It was all complicated and drawn-out but Bucky understood how his father thought and that’s exactly what was going on!

“Damn it, Bucky, you really wanna do this? In front of your doctor?” his father warned as he pointed a finger at Steve.

“He can’t tell anybody! Patient-doctor confidentiality!” Bucky countered. “It’s not a phase, Dad!”

“Bucky!” his mother cried. “Now is not the time!”

“Is everything okay in here?” Sharon asked. “Someone hit the…panic…button…” She looked to Steve, her blonde, dainty brows rising against her forehead. “Dr. Rogers.”

Bucky looked over to Steve. He was standing next to the bed with his thumb over the panic button. Bucky allowed a strangled whine to escape the back of his throat. Steve didn’t want to see this. And Bucky had been so pissed he didn’t even stop to think about it. Steve wasn’t just his doctor. A doctor could sit there and tune it out, but Steve was his _boyfriend_. He was the very thing that Bucky’s father was against and if his dad knew… Bucky was certain there’d be no happy ending here.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered as Steve finally let go of the button.

“Are you or are you not okay with rooming with Peter Parker?” Steve asked tightly. His eyes were strained and his cheeks were flushed. Bucky was the idiot now. He hadn’t even stopped to think about what this would do to Steve, how this would make him _feel_.

“I’m okay rooming with Peter.”

“And are you okay with your son rooming with an openly _gay_ teenager?” Steve spat.

Bucky gasped. It wasn’t just about him. Peter was Steve’s friend too. _Steve_ was gay too. Seeing this fight would work him up because it wasn’t just about Bucky, it was personal to Steve.

“Yes,” Mom spoke up. “I don’t care who my son rooms with, as long as he’s safe.” She was staring down at Bucky’s father now, glaring numerous unspoken threats. Bucky let a tired, crooked smile slip against his lips. His mother was silently standing up for him. It made his soul hum (if he had one; Bucky didn’t think so but something was vibrating deep within him and that’s all he could think about).

“Sharon will prepare your bed then. Excuse me,” Steve said as he bolted for the door. Bucky wanted to call out to him. He wanted to run after him and ask if he was okay and apologize a thousand times over, but right now, Steve was his doctor and not his boyfriend. Steve had other obligations and he’d wasted enough of his time with Bucky.

Bucky had fucked up.

 

* * *

 

Steve sat at the nurses’ station, his face pressed into his hands as he sighed heavily. Bucky was faking an illness, they were okay and together again, Bucky was going to room with Peter, they weren’t going to get to _be_ with each other tonight…and Steve had finally seen how awkward Mr. Barnes was about homosexuality. It left a bitter taste in the back of Steve’s mouth. Not only did he finally know how Mr. Barnes felt, but he saw the family fight of a child standing up for himself when his parents thought they knew him better. He saw a _child_ fighting with his _parents_. Steve’s stomach flipped.

He wanted to be with Bucky. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind anymore. He was falling so hard and so fast for that kid that Steve would eventually be a pile of mush on the pavement but that didn’t stop the fact that Bucky was almost _fifteen years_ younger than him. That didn’t hide the fact that Steve was, legally, a pedophile. He slammed his head against the desk. He really wanted to look up statutory rape laws in New York. Seeing Mr. Barnes react the way he had, really rocked Steve to his core and left his bones shivering against his skin.

Sharon looked over at him, nibbling her pencil. “You’re having a day, aren’t you?”

Steve, still with his face pressed against the desk said, “You think?”

“I checked in a new patient. Her name’s Wanda and she’s complaining of head pain and vision problems. Could be a tumor. Dr. Banner is going to be her neurosurgeon, but maybe you could be her general physician?”

Steve didn’t want to move. He sighed heavily.

“She’s cute,” Sharon continued. “Really bubbly and nice. Sweet face.”

Steve glared over at Sharon. “Why does that matter?” he spat. “She’s a child right? That’s why she’s in the pediatric ward.”

Sharon blinked a few times, clearly startled by Steve’s behavior. She pressed her fingers against the desk, flicking her brows once. “Look,” she began icily. “You’ve been a prick to me for _weeks_ now. I’ve set it aside. Your mom died. That sucks. That will _always_ suck. I can’t even imagine the pain you’re feeling, but stop being a dick and start being the _fucking good_ doctor that you’ve always been. People respect you, Rogers. They fucking adore you. You want to be an attending here? Get your act together.”

Steve was moving before he even realized it. Sharon handed him Wanda’s chart and he was suddenly off down the hall and toward her room. He flipped through her symptoms. They’d have to order a CT scan before Dr. Banner could really start taking over as the physician but Steve had to triage the situation, just as he had to with everyone. He was a good doctor. Sharon was right. He cared about his patients. He cared about his _job_. He’d freak out about statutory rape laws later…

So he knocked on the girl’s door, opened it and put on the biggest smile he possibly could. He walked over, met her family, met her twin brother and went through the steps of showing this was the best damn hospital they could have brought Wanda Maximoff to.

After he was finishing up with Wanda, Sharon was leaning against the wall by her door. She had her arms crossed over her pink scrubs with various prints of Winnie the Pooh characters dotted on it. Steve’s heart slowed in his chest as he cautiously closed Wanda’s door, leaving her and her family with the options he’d just given and the CT scan that would be performed today for her.

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologized. “I’ve been an ass…to everyone.”

“Yes,” Sharon agreed. “You have.”

Steve winced. “Can I buy you coffee and make it up to you?”

“You can buy me many cups of coffee. I’d say a week’s worth, actually.” She finally looked over at him, a playful smile against those shimmering lips. Steve wondered if she wore flavored lip-gloss. Not because he felt like kissing her, but because she was always so shimmery. There was only one person he wanted to kiss and he was finally catching up with Peter. “I think you and I need to talk about something…”

Steve’s stomach dropped. He started walking down the hall, toward the private rooms for doctors to sleep in when they were on call or pulling shifts way longer than the regular twelve hours. Sharon was by his side. “About what?” Steve asked innocently.

“About Barnes,” Sharon answered.

Steve felt like the ground was slipping away from him. He walked sloppily, crisscrossing his legs as he tried to keep putting one foot in front of the other. “W-why?”

“Just c’mon,” Sharon huffed as she pulled Steve into the sleeping quarters.

Steve sat on one of the beds. Sharon locked the door.

_‘I’m going to prison. I’m going to prison…’_

“He’s not sick,” Sharon chided. “He’s not sick and you know it!”

“We can’t be sure of that,” Steve defended. He was still nervous. The back of his throat was running dry.

“His temperature is 98.2, his cheeks are pink and he looks _so healthy_. There are no rashes on him or signs of infection anywhere! Steve, why are you keeping him?”

“I told you, we start thinking our patients are faking and we start misdiagnosing! I’m not gonna bring a med-mal suit down on this hospital!”

“You may bring one anyway if he _gets_ sick while he’s here! If he dies, Steve…” she warned, her sentence trailing off. She huffed, leaning against the door. “He loves you.”

Steve looked up, his eyes round in horror. “Sharon…”

“When he was in the ICU, when we were practically pumping antibiotics and oxycodone into his system, he was mumbling your name. Over and over. He. Loves. You.”

“I’m his doctor. He was probably asking for me,” Steve responded slowly. “And what does it matter if he l-loves me?”

Sharon shrugged. “I’m worried he’s putting himself in danger just to see you.”

There it was again. The reason Sharon was his favorite. She was always right. She should have been a doctor. She could have. Being a nurse wasn’t a cakewalk either, but if Sharon had the _power_ that doctors had, she could swiftly take care of patients way faster than she could now. She would be the one calling the shots and not asking for permission.

“You…want me to send him home?” Steve asked through a strangled voice.

Sharon nodded. “His blood tests are clean, Steve. There’s nothing wrong with him. My only concern is him doing something drastic to land himself _back_ in the hospital. I honestly believe he’d hurt himself if it meant seeing you.”

“What do you want me to do then?” Steve asked slowly. He knew all this. He knew this because he was probably in love with Bucky, just as much as Bucky was in love with him. Bucky _would_ do something stupid if it meant being back in the hospital and Steve would do something stupid to _keep_ him in the hospital. It was already happening!

“Maybe…we should send him to psych. I called Dr. Jarvis earlier and we talked about this. He thinks Bucky has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder _and_ Borderline Personality Disorder. Not to mention depression and anxiety. At the same time though, I’m worried if we stick ‘em down there that he’ll really do something drastic, or act out because he can’t see you.”

“Then how would you treat this, Sharon? Clearly you don’t think I’m doing a good job,” Steve spat.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Sharon argued. “We have a kid who clearly is _obsessed_ with you and will do _anything_ to see you with absolutely no respect for his disease! He could kill himself, Steve!” Sharon was yelling. Steve’s gaze flicked to the door behind her, curious if anyone could hear, curious if anyone had stopped to listen. What if Bucky’s parents were out there? What would they think? What if Bucky was strolling down the hall and heard all this? What would he do?

“I _don’t_ …know _what_ …to do,” Steve growled through clenched teeth. “Do you want me to send him home, or do you want me to send him to psych?” This was killing Steve. Sharon was too smart for her own good. Steve could pretend to ignore the signs. He could dismiss Bucky’s extreme behavior because he’d been so _glad_ to see Bucky again. He could touch him, kiss him, _talk_ to him. Steve was ignoring the dangers just as much as Bucky was! They were both too emotionally invested and Sharon was completely right. This could kill him.

Steve would never be the same again if he’d become the reason Bucky died. He’d probably die himself… Or turn himself over to authorities. They killed pedophiles in prison, right?

Steve’s mouth dropped open as he really realized the gravity of his thoughts. This wasn’t how a doctor should behave. It wasn’t even about Steve’s adoration for Bucky at this point. Yes, he cared for Bucky, probably even loved him but Steve wasn’t ready to and admit that aloud. This was about doing the _right_ thing. Steve couldn’t keep Bucky here. Sharon was right.

“Steve, are you even listening to me?” Sharon barked.

Steve bit his lower lip, wincing as he snapped from his thoughts. “We’ll send him home. Just…let me talk to him first.”

Sharon sighed in relief, rolling her shoulders. “Thank you, Steve,” she whispered.

“Though, we put him with Peter,” Steve began. “He’s gonna be real upset when he finds out he has to leave his best friend.”

“It’s better than being dead,” Sharon stated blankly. “Please, Steve. You know this is the right thing to do.”

Steve hated this. “Yeah… I know.”

They left the sleeping quarters, silently and awkwardly walking away from it as they dispersed. Steve’s feet felt heavy. Bucky was with Peter. They were catching up and Peter was probably teasing Bucky about Steve, and Bucky was probably doing his best to divert the conversation but he most likely wasn’t winning… Peter was a little shit like that.

He lingered in front of the door, listening to the gentle laughter that bubbled from within. Knocking a few times, he let half a beat pass before opening the door to find Bucky and Peter in the same bed, under the covers together and blushing like mad. “Is this a bad time?” Steve asked.

“You’re more than welcome to join us, Steve,” Peter giggled. “Bucky was just regaling me with how you pulled your “happy doctor” persona on him earlier. That’s cruel.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. He pulled up one of the rolling chairs and sat next to the bed, crossing his arms. “Bucky…”

“He already knows, Steve!” Bucky blurted.

Steve’s heart practically tripped over itself. He felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. “What?”

Peter was folding his red and blue bandana, preparing to put it over his bald head. “I set you two up, remember?”

Steve felt dizzy. Sure, it was Peter and sure, that wasn’t the end of the world, but Bucky was admitting that Peter knew, which meant they’d not been talking about Steve’s “happy doctor” persona, and were actually talking about Bucky and Steve’s _relationship_. Steve suddenly felt very naked.

“I won’t tell anyone, Steve,” Peter continued. He wrapped the bandana atop his head. “Honestly, I’ve been teasing you about this since day one and you’re a pretty good liar, but Bucky’s a shit liar. But…I have a price.”

“Seriously? I’m about to be blackmailed by a lymphoma patient?” Steve responded with light amusement in his tone.

“For one kiss, which has already been approved by your _boyfriend_ , I’ll seal my lips forever.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re pressuring me,” Steve teased as he looked to Bucky. “This is peer pressure!” It was one thing if it was just Bucky, but if anyone ever found out about them before Bucky was eighteen, and it subsequently got out that Steve had _kissed_ Peter– then every patient that Steve had ever come into contact with would fear they had been somehow molested. This wasn’t a slope Steve felt comfortable sliding down.

“It’s just a kiss, Steve,” Bucky giggled out. “Peter had you first, so it’s only fair.”

“Peter didn’t– I’m his _doctor_.”

“So what? You’re my doctor too,” Bucky pressed. He leaned his head against Peter’s frail shoulder. “C’mon Steve. It’s just a kiss!”

Steve rolled away from them, lingering in the middle of the room. He bit his lip. He knew either way that Peter wouldn’t willingly mention anything, but what if Peter got jealous? What if he got angry at Bucky? There was fuel now that could ignite a fire if anything in Bucky and Peter’s relationship went sour. Not to mention, what if Peter was delirious or weak after chemo? He could mumble out something and nurses _listen_ to that. This was bad. This was a very, very bad idea. “I can’t, Peter,” Steve finally said. “You’re one of my favorite patients but I just…can’t.”

Peter looked down, shrugging softly. Bucky looked more upset than Peter. “S’okay,” Peter mumbled. “Worth a shot anyway.”

“It’s just a kiss, Steve,” Bucky said again.

“Bucky, it’s okay. We were just kidding around,” Peter attempted.

“Yeah, it’s a kiss to you, but this is my _career_ Bucky! I can’t go around kissing my patients!”

“It’s fine!” Peter shouted. “It was just a stupid joke. Calm down– both of you.”

“You’re being discharged, Bucky,” Steve stated, desperate to get off this conversation. He felt guilt pull at his throat, but he _couldn’t_ bring himself to endanger his career any more than he already had. All it took was for one parent to say something and then all parents would voice their concern and Steve would be slammed with a class action lawsuit so fast, even if he’d only been with Bucky. In the eyes of the law, it wouldn’t matter. There was enough evidence to put him in prison there alone!

“What? But m’coughing!”

“You’re faking it, Buck,” Steve breathed out exhaustively. “Sharon’s concerned you’re gonna get another infection from the hospital. We can’t let you put yourself in danger like that.”

“But I wanna stay!” Bucky flung himself from the bed. He wrapped his legs around Steve’s body, bringing his arms around Steve’s shoulders. Steve felt dirty exposing their relationship like this in front of Peter but he didn’t push Bucky away. He didn’t want to. He grabbed at Bucky’s waist to steady him.

“I can’t let you endanger yourself just to see me,” Steve admitted. “It’s not fair.”

“Then how am I gonna see you?” Bucky cried. “You won’t even email me!”

Steve looked away, briefly glancing over at Peter. He looked just as upset as Bucky, probably because Steve was the reason Bucky was going to be forced out of his life again. It wasn’t fair to _either_ of them. Steve shouldn’t have teased this arrangement in the first place. He should have been a _good_ doctor. “I have an idea,” Steve answered evenly. “Before I discharge you, I’m gonna go buy you a cell phone.”

“No way!” Peter exclaimed.

“It’ll be a cheap-ass flip phone!” Steve detailed. “But keep it hidden and we can talk to each other.”

Bucky’s eyes were glistening with tears as he stared at Steve, his lips parted softly, elongating the curves of his mouth. Steve wanted to press his lips up against them. “Y-you’d do that for me?” Bucky asked weakly.

“I’m beginning to find out there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you,” Steve resigned, huffing. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was, leaping through more hoops to be with a boy that the world said he had no right to be with. “I’ll go on break now and run to Verizon. I swear to God though, you keep this phone hidden.”

Bucky nodded frantically. “I swear. I’ll protect it with my life.”

Steve couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against Bucky’s lips, feeling his spine tingle in elation. He heard Peter gasping. “I’ll have Sharon call your parents when I get back.” He nudged Bucky a bit, indicating he had to go now.

Bucky slipped off his lap, spinning on his heel and curling back into bed with Peter. “Steve!” he called out.

Steve paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “Yeah, Buck?”

“M’sorry for being a brat.”

Steve eyed him for a moment, looking at the round curves of his cheeks, the slightly pouted lip. Steve could see the man he’d become in that face. He could see the angular bones that were starting to elongate and protrude. He just wasn’t there quite yet. “Yeah well, I signed up for it.” He walked out of the room.

Steve was sure he wanted to be with Bucky. He wanted to spend time with him outside of the hospital. He wanted to see Bucky truly be _Bucky_. He wanted to watch him grow up and mature into those angular bones that teased underneath that baby face. He still really needed to look up statutory rape laws… Just to be safe.

* * *

 

Turns out, everything Steve was doing was “technically” legal with Bucky. As Steve sat at the Verizon store, he’d pulled out his phone and started googling New York statutory language. According to the Model Penal Code, Section 130.35, it stated a male can only be a “pedophile” if he is eighteen years of age or older and has engaged in sexual activity with a child thirteen years or younger (Steve found it weird that there was a different definition for a female pedophile). It was a huge relief to be blatantly shown that he was in fact _not_ a pedophile. In addition, according to the United States Code Section 2A3.2, statutory rape was only criminally punishable if the person was _under_ sixteen. Bucky had been sixteen. He was now seventeen. Steve legally never did anything _wrong_. With that being said, there were a few exceptions, like undue influence, non-consensual sexual activity (which Bucky was clearly more than consenting), and “application of subsection” which basically meant if a person sat there begging a sixteen or seventeen year old to have sex with them and they finally gave in, it was still considered statutory rape. So, Steve was perfectly justified within the law to have a relationship with Bucky. There was no statutory rape involved!

He hadn’t meant to laugh out loud, but he did. Relief was flooding through him like a dam bursting at the seams! The woman sitting next to him peered down at his phone and then back up to him with the most standoffish face and scooted away. Steve didn’t care. He hadn’t done anything wrong! Everything was legal! The only issue now being the Hippocratic Oath. Steve had violated it when he’d decided to keep Bucky in the hospital when there was no reason to. Steve had been doing harm. There were rules about engaging in relationships with patients and a court could see Steve’s relationship with Bucky as being an “undue influence.” Right now though, _technically_ he wasn’t doing anything wrong! He was hiding it from Bucky’s parents and everyone at the hospital but plenty of people kept their relationships secret till they were ready to come out with them. Steve and Bucky just weren’t’ ready! Well, that was at least Steve’s story and he wasn’t going to change it.

“Steve Rogers?” a salesperson called.

“That’s me!” Steve said, sporting an ear-to-ear grin. “I’d like to add another line to my plan.”

* * *

 

Steve didn’t buy Bucky a regular “cheap-ass” flip-phone. It was an android, with all the bells and whistles and aps that Bucky had always wanted but never could convince his parents to let him have. He stared down at the phone in awe, occasionally looking back up at Steve’s overly-smug face. Peter was giggling from his bed.

“Can I buy aps on it?” Bucky asked slyly.

“You may not,” Steve answered. “But, I bumped up my data plan so you can use Facebook or whatever and listen to music. I’ve got a membership to Spotify and you can use it too.”

“Christ, Steve,” Bucky whispered out. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

Steve leaned in, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheekbone. “You could say “thank you,” Steve chuckled lightly.

Bucky turned his face in, kissing Steve numerous times against the lips. “Thank you so much. I swear I won’t let my parents ever find out.”

“Good. Don’t. But now we can see each other outside the hospital. I already put Skype on the phone and plugged my number in. You’re free to use it with your other friends too, but, please make sure they can be trusted not to tell your parents.”

“I don’t have any friends besides Peter,” Bucky mumbled. “So, you don’t gotta worry about that.”

Steve grimaced but he nodded. “Well, maybe you can make some friends now that you’ve got a phone.”

“One step at a time,” Bucky said flatly.

“You’re parents are on their way to get you. Call me tonight?” Steve asked.

Bucky smiled darkly. “Can I skype call you?”

Steve’s features fell into a knowing smirk. He opened his mouth, taking in a breath as he seemed to mull over his response. “Sure, I’ll even introduce you to Cap.”

“Yes!” Bucky cried out, pumping his fists into the air! He slipped the phone into his back pocket before wrapping his arms around Steve’s torso, cupping at his shoulder blades. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem, baby,” Steve cooed softly, pressing a kiss against Bucky’s head. “I gotta keep doing my runs. But I’ll talk to you tonight.” He paused, letting his face bunch up in worry. “Please be safe. Don’t ever purposefully try to get sent here again.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. He knew what he’d done was irrational, but it was the only way he could _see_ Steve, and it worked out! Everything was going to be easier from now on. He had a cool new phone, a beautiful boyfriend who didn’t mind dropping a dime on him (which Bucky was overflowing with joy about, cause it meant Steve really cared), and he was healthy…for now. Life wasn’t so bad…for now. But Bucky knew there’d be a day when he’d get thrown back into this place. He had to soak up every moment with Steve till that time came. There was so much he wanted to do still!

“I’ll talk to you tonight,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips. He kissed him lightly, too quickly for Bucky to really react. Bucky watched as Steve strode away, but it was different this time. Bucky could feel the phone in his pocket. Steve was only ever a phone call away and Bucky was going to “meet” Cap tonight. It was the next step to their relationship. This was real and Steve was willing to put in the effort to see Bucky, just as much as Bucky was willing to see Steve. Steve really _did_ care.

“Bucky?” Peter asked in surprise. “Why’re you crying?”

* * *

 

Bucky sat in his room, staring at his phone as it sat in his lap. He kept peering up at the clock, watching the minutes trickle past him slowly. Steve was off work. Bucky was going to wait till he felt like Steve would be home. Eight PM felt like a lifetime away. He had made sure to eat a big helping of dinner to keep his parents from being worried. He’d cleaned up the dishes, kissed his mom goodnight and said he was going to turn in early. They were none-the-wiser and Bucky was one step closer to Steve, even if he couldn’t actually _touch_ Steve. This was still just as good. This was what people in relationships did. Bucky was practically radiating with excitement.

_‘Clock, move!’_

Bucky swiped at the lock code on his phone. He didn’t like security codes because they were just another step, but in the event his parents found the phone, he wanted to be able to successfully tell them he’d stolen the phone and didn’t know the code. The phone vibrated in his hands, a notification popping up at the top of the screen. A text.

 **I’m home. Are you?** It was from Steve. Bucky looked up at the clock, so he’d maybe overshot it when thinking it’d take Steve an hour to get home, but Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve wanted to linger around the hospital or if he was checking in on Peter. He’d rather err to the side of caution than get Steve in trouble.

 **Where else would I be?** Bucky teased back, smiling to himself.

**Oh I don’t know, picking up older men in hospitals?**

Bucky snorted. **I only reserve that for you ;)** It took Bucky awhile to really get used to texting on a phone with no keys but he figured the slower he went, the more Steve could sit there with anticipation. Did he? Or did he just casually toss his phone around and go about his day? Bucky assumed he was lingering around the phone, considering he was firing texts back almost as quickly as Bucky was sending them.

Bucky smiled, feeling his heart swell in his chest. He loved knowing that Steve was paying this much attention to him. He’d never had a boyfriend. He didn’t know what it was like to get butterflies in his stomach when he saw the phone light up with Steve’s name. He did now. It was exhilarating!

 **Skyyppppeeeeee?** Bucky typed out. He had to go back and prevent autocorrect from turning the word into “skyscraper.”

**Give me a second. I’ll call you on it. Feeding Cap.**

Bucky pouted. He was so anxious to experience this. What would it be like? Would it be awkward at first? Would they look fatter on screen? Would Bucky look like he had a double chin? He didn’t have the biggest chin on the planet, when he looked down, it wasn’t uncommon for his chin to kind of…bunch up. He hated it. He wasn’t fat! It just happened. Where would he sit for this? He looked around the room, deciding to scoot up his bed and rest against the pillow. He stared at the phone, as it lay against his lap, with wide-eyed anticipation. His heart was racing, pumping loudly in his ears.

The phone lit up with a powder blue. Bucky had set all the sounds to vibrate so his parents couldn’t hear. He quickly answered the call, watching the screen turn on, getting a glimpse of Steve’s smiling face. He grimaced. He should have turned on music so his parents couldn’t hear his conversation. “Hold on,” he whispered.

He jumped from the bed, leaving the phone to stare up at the ceiling. He pulled up his music, putting on The Rolling Stones. It was loud enough so it could be gently heard from behind his door, but quiet enough to not require an angry parent to barge in and tell him to stop it. He’d gotten the volumes down to a science.

He jumped back onto the bed, cradling the phone in his hands as he nestled against a pillow. “Hey.”

Steve laughed. “Hey,” he responded.

“How was work?” Bucky asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“Mmm, I love it when you do that,” Steve answered, ignoring his question.

“Bite my lip?” Bucky questioned. He knew this already. Steve had told him before. It’s why he did it as much as he possibly could without chewing his lips raw.

“Yeah. You look so sexy.” Steve’s voice was husky. He looked to be in his living room. The ceilings were high with wooden beams and blue walls. Steve’s house was gorgeous… go figure.

“Are you at a computer?” Bucky asked, tilting his head to the side.

Steve spun around in his chair as if for emphasis. “Uh yeah. I didn’t know if your computer could handle Skype, and I wanted you to use the phone anyway.”

Bucky laughed. “My computer’s not that old!”

“I didn’t know!” Steve protested. “Wanna meet Cap?”

Bucky nodded enthusiastically. He couldn’t stop smiling. Was this what it was like to have a boyfriend? A _real_ boyfriend? Not that Steve wasn’t a real boyfriend. Bucky honestly felt like he’d thrust this entire thing on Steve. He’d never really given Steve a chance to make his own decisions, but this phone, Steve sitting on Skype after work and grabbing his dog and clicking his tongue lightly to get the animal to bounce over to the computer, this was all his choice. It just felt nice feeling validated; feeling more than just a patient that Steve wanted to help. Bucky _was_ a patient, but he was also Steve’s boyfriend. It wasn’t just out of pity. It was real. Real as the phone Bucky was holding.

“Cap! Cap, look at the camera!” Steve commanded lightly. “C’mon boy!”

The lab sniffed at the camera, his nose blocked out half the screen. Bucky chuckled lightly, running a finger back and forth against his lips absentmindedly. “He’s adorable, Steve.”

The dog pushed his face into Steve’s chest. “Are you a good boy? Yes! Yes you are!” he cooed in the most _adorable_ baby voice Bucky had ever heard. Bucky felt his cock twitch. Christ, he honestly wouldn’t mind Steve speaking to him like that. Maybe that could be something they did…

“Hey Steve,” Bucky ventured.

Steve let the dog trot away. He looked back up at the camera expectantly.

“I’ve been thinkin’…”

“Uh oh, that’s never a good sign,” Steve teased.

“Shut up!” Bucky shot back through a smile. “Since…I’m still sick, well, ya know. H-IgM.”

Steve wasn’t smiling anymore. It made Bucky feel nervous. His fingers were tingling, but that could’ve been because of the way he was holding the phone.

“There’s a lot I wanna do…just in case…” he stated. “Like, a bucket list.”

Steve wasn’t responding. He had that dimple between his brow and his lips were pressed tightly together. From the phone’s screen, Bucky couldn’t really make out anything in his eyes, but he knew Steve looked hesitant. He knew this wasn’t a subject Steve liked talking about. Steve was so optimistic Bucky could beat this. Bucky was more of a realist.

“I was wonderin’ if you’d help me check ‘em all off.”

Steve looked down. Bucky assumed he was petting Cap, but he couldn’t see down past Steve’s chest. He was still in his scrubs. He looked back up, nodding tightly. “Yeah. I’ll help you check them off.”

Bucky’s heart soared practically out of his chest. He felt like something was singing inside of him. “R-really? I mean, I haven’t really made up the list entirely yet, but I’ve got ideas!”

Steve laughed. “Okay. Maybe we can make the list together?”

Bucky hadn’t even thought of that! It would make everything so much sweeter. “Can we start brainstorming now?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Bucky dropped his phone, rolling off the bed and going over to his printer to snag a piece of paper and a pen. He plopped back on the bed. He sat his phone up against his headboard so Steve could still see him, and he could see Steve.

“So what’re your ideas?” Steve asked.

“Well,” Bucky drawled. “Go big or go home right? Uh, certain kinds of sex…”

Steve snorted, dropping his head for a moment. “Like what kinds of sex?”

“Like…tying me up? Or blind folding me! Or roleplaying?”

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve breathed out. “What if I’m not into that?”

“Then we don’t have to, but… I thought it sounded fun.” He nibbled on the tip of his pen.

“Roleplaying’s fine,” Steve finally responded. “Light bondage doesn’t bother me, and blindfolding might be fun.”

“So I can add them?” Bucky squeaked happily.

“Sure,” Steve resigned.

Bucky scribbled down the ideas. He put his pen against his mouth again, thinking. “I wanna go to a carnival and get roasted almonds and ride a Ferris Wheel.”

“What about your parents?”

“I can ditch them. Change clothes, maybe even put on a wig?” Bucky suggested.

Steve rolled his eyes. “How about we work on the logistics later. Put it on the list.”

Bucky smiled wide, scribing it down.  “I’d like to do the movie theater idea we had?”

“Me too,” Steve added.

“What about the zoo? Or a racecar event?”

“Slow down, killer!” Steve protested through a laugh. “Your parents are the biggest issue here.”

“Well, I’ll write ‘em down and we can figure out details later. If they don’t happen, that’s okay.”

“What are some easier ones you wanna do?”

Bucky bit his lip, looking at the screen shyly. “Phone sex…”

Steve snorted again. “Okay. Write it down.”

Bucky had never felt so triumphant. Was this what living was really supposed to be like? Full of smiles and giggles? His heart had never felt so light. “What about …Skype sex?”

“Put it on the list,” Steve practically growled, adjusting himself in his seat.

“Can we do it tonight?” Bucky pressed.

“We can do it more than once, Buck,” Steve laughed out.

Bucky licked at his lips, feeling his dick harden against the seam of his jeans. He grinded against it, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, what are some things you wanna do?”

Steve inhaled deeply, looking away from the computer as he seemed to mull over the question. “Uh, movies, kinky sex…”

Bucky laughed.

“…If you have to go back to the hospital, I’ve always wanted to have sex with someone in the doctors’ sleeping quarters.”

“Seriously?” Bucky gasped out. “What if we got caught?”

“I’m counting on you being alive well past eighteen, Bucky.”

 _‘I’m not…’_ Still, warmth pooled around his heart as he realized Steve was looking at this for the long-run. Steve wanted to _be_ with Bucky for the long run. That in itself was enough to make Bucky feel like there was a heaven. Maybe Steve _was_ his heaven.

“I’ll put it on the list!” Bucky lilted.

“I wanna take Cap to a dog park at sunset with you. Sit on a bench and hold hands and watch him play.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky gushed out in surprise. “You’re such a romantic.”

Steve tossed his head from side to side. “I can be. But I also think slamming you against a wall and fucking you sounds like a great idea.”

Bucky had to readjust the way he was sitting. His dick was completely hard at this point, throbbing painfully against his jeans. “Dirty talk. Can I put that on the list too?”

“Absolutely,” Steve answered with a fox’s grin.

“Can we…can we add more later? I kinda wanna…” Bucky grabbed at his jeans, palming over his dick and shivering.

“Sure baby. We can come back to it.” Steve’s voice was rough, golden caramel, flowing huskily from his mouth and right down to Bucky’s dick.

Bucky whined, wiggling his ass as he tried to get his dick to brush up against his inseam again. “St-Steve…”

“You turned on right now, baby?” Steve asked casually, as if he wasn’t entirely sure.

Bucky _knew_ he knew. He swallowed roughly, nodding.

“Aw, baby,” Steve cooed. “You look so pretty like that. Squirming around on your bed. You’re on your bed right?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky breathed out. He rubbed at his dick through his pants, palming over it in soft circles.

“Why don’t you show me your room, baby?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly what Steve was doing. “You’re a tease!”

Steve laughed in disbelief. “What? Am not! I wanna see your room! C’mon baby, show me your room.”

Bucky got off the bed, whining as his cock pressed into his jeans. He walked stiffly, slowly bringing the phone around to show Steve the room.

“It’s a mess, baby,” Steve said, clicking his tongue. “You like getting’ messy?”

Steve was still playing with him. Bucky turned the phone back around, nodding softly. “Y-yeah Steve. I like gettin’ messy.” Bucky’s heart was _pounding_. This was almost more exciting than having Steve next to him. Steve’s words were laced with desire. His casual phrases and questions sent zings of pleasure right into Bucky’s throbbing dick. Bucky was having fun with this. He wanted so much more of it. “Am I a bad boy, Steve? For liking to be messy?”

Steve gasped. Bucky watched as one of his hands slid down off the camera. Bucky knew exactly where it was going…

“I don’t know, Bucky,” Steve sang out. “Bad boys also misbehave; do things they’re not supposed to. Like pretend to be sick and go to the hospital…”

Bucky couldn’t suppress the shiver that rang against his spine and right into his dick. He wanted out of his jeans. “I pretended I was sick…”

Steve gasped again, mocking surprise. “Bucky!” he called out. “You _are_ a bad boy!”

Bucky went to kneel on the bed, putting the phone back against the headboard again. “M’sorry, Steve,” Bucky mumbled innocently. “I don’t wanna be a bad boy.”

Steve tsked his tongue a few times. “Well there’s only one way to solve this, baby. Gotta punish you for it.”

Bucky laughed. Steve’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you _laughing_ at me, Bucky?” Bucky watched as Steve stoked at himself slowly. _Jesus_ , Steve was gorgeous. The way his muscles flexed and relaxed in his biceps… Bucky could watch him touch himself all day.

“No, Steve,” Bucky answered softly. “M’not laughin’.”

“I think you were laughing, Bucky,” Steve continued. “I think you should take your shirt off.”

Bucky smiled, licking at his lips. He lifted the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

Steve leaned back in his chair. Bucky could see his hand in his pants now. He watched the hand’s outline stroke up and down, slowly. Bucky whined. He licked his lips, wishing he could wrap them around Steve’s cock.

“You like watching me, Bucky?” Steve asked. He stroked himself a few more times for good measure, letting his mouth drop open as a soft moan slipped out of his lips.

Bucky felt his cock brush against his jeans, crying to be free of its restraints. “Y-yeah…” he said breathlessly. He reached his hand down, hovering over his button.

“Bucky!” Steve called out.

Bucky froze.

“What did I say about having to punish you? Put your hand down.”

Bucky jerked his hips forward, he cried out in frustration but he did as he was told.

“Good boy, Bucky,” Steve cooed. Bucky had never felt so proud. He wanted Steve to talk to him like he’d talked to Cap… maybe he could get him to tonight. “You wanna touch yourself?”

Bucky nodded softly, swallowing sticky saliva down his throat.

“Bring your fingers up to your nipples. Play with them.”

Bucky was a little embarrassed. Heat rose into his cheeks as he looked at his hands for a moment. He’d jerked off loads of times, but this was different. He was putting on a show for Steve. Someone was watching him touch himself. It was different. Made him nervous. He brought up a shaking hand, fingering his index finger over one of his nipples. He arched into the sensation, closing his eyes. “Ah... Steve…I wanna be a good boy.”

“You will be baby,” Steve whispered softly. “Just gotta make you remember what being a bad boy feels like.”

Bucky nodded, still fingering one of his nipples. He looked down, watching the light-brown flesh stiffen against his touch. “St-Steve…”

“Twist it,” Steve ordered.

Bucky brought his thumb over to carefully cradle the nipple, he slid his index finger against it, rolling the flesh in his hands. “Ah!” Gently, he slid his fingers back and forth, twisting the nipple so small amounts of pain shivered against his skin. His cock was leaking now; he could feel it wetting the inside of his boxers.

“Good boy, Bucky,” Steve praised. “You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky moaned out. He brought his hand up to his other nipple now, rubbing at it softly and gasping into his touch. It was fun. He liked pleasing Steve like this. He felt powerful even if Steve was the one calling the shots. Bucky was showing Steve a good time. He was the reason Steve was stroking his own dick on camera. Neither party really had more power over the other. It was all a tradeoff.

“Bucky, you’re so pretty like that,” Steve hissed out. “Wanna…wanna see you naked.”

Bucky slipped his jeans and boxers down. His cock bounced lightly up against his tummy, smearing precome against him.

“I can’t see it,” Steve said. “Move the camera a bit, Buck.”

Bucky put the phone against his pillows, lowering it so the angle was tilted up now at Bucky’s body. “Can you now?”

“Yeah, baby,” Steve answered. “ _God,_ you’re so pretty, Bucky.”

Bucky felt his chest heat up as blush also rushed into his face and shoulders.

“What do you say when someone gives you a compliment, Bucky?” Steve asked.

“Th-thank you,” Bucky whispered. “Thank you, Steve.”

“That’s a good boy,” Steve commended. “You’re so hard and you’re being so good for me. You leaking, baby?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, Steve.” He wanted to touch himself. He’d never ached so _badly_ before. His whole body was vibrating with the dire, desperate need for release. “M’leaking.” Bucky started to pick up that Steve liked it when he completed Steve’s sentences. It made Steve fidget around in his chair, stroke himself just a bit faster.

“Run your finger around the head, baby, just a finger,” Steve instructed.

Bucky whimpered, looking down at his red, swollen cock. A finger wouldn’t do anything but make him want to fall over and cry from pleasure. Steve was going to take his time with this… Bucky wasn’t sure he could really handle it. Steve wasn’t here, but he _was_. It was like Steve’s hands were all over him, warming him up and smothering him with such heat that Bucky felt like he was almost on fire.

“I’m waiting, Bucky,” Steve pressed; a slight trace of disappointment in his voice.

Bucky reached down, tracing his index finger along the soft curves of the tip of his cock. He shivered, whimpering desperately as pleasure rolled into his body. “Mmm…Steve…” he whined.

“Feels good, baby?” Steve asked. “You think you can be a good boy now?”

Bucky nodded anxiously. “Y-yeah… I can be a good boy.”

“Keep circling your finger around, Bucky,” Steve ordered. “We gotta get all the bad boy outta ya. Do you have any toys, baby?”

Bucky clenched his thighs, rocking his hips into his touch. His slit was dribbling precome down against his length, making him shiver as it cooled against his skin. A finger wasn’t enough. Bucky felt tears sting in his eyes. “N-no… Steve…” he groaned. “Please can I have more?” He looked up, watching Steve’s hand pump at himself. His pace was faster now. Bucky wanted to go that pace too. He needed a release.

“Nnn gotta buy you some toys,” Steve mused. “And I don’t know if bad boys like you deserve more.”

Bucky rolled his head back against his shoulders, moaning out softly. He couldn’t be too loud or his parents would certainly hear him over the Rolling Stones. But _God_ , did the idea of Steve buying him sex toys excite the ever-living daylight out of him. That certainly was getting written on the bucket list.

“Use two fingers. Pump at yourself, baby.”

Bucky quickly did as instructed. Excitement bubbled through him as he was able to bring about more pleasure for himself. He slipped his fingers up and down his shaft, hissing when he caressed over his tip. “Ah…ah…oh! Oh, Steve!”

“Feels good, baby?” Steve asked. “Does it feel as good as my tongue?”

“N-no, Steve. Your tongue feels the best,” Bucky answered as he rocked into his touch. He rolled his hips with each slow, steady pump of his hand.

“Do you think bad boys deserve my tongue, baby?”

“No…”

“You gonna be a good boy from now on? Clean your room and don’t pretend to be sick when you’re not?”

“Yes, Steve. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Spit into your hand and stroke yourself faster baby. Make it feel good.”

Steve didn’t have to tell Bucky twice… Bucky spit into his hand, letting the saliva mix with the thick precome that glistened against his cock already. He stroked at himself, flicking his wrist to swish his fingers against his tip. His legs were shaking. He fell forward, stretching out one hand to balance himself on three limbs as he fucked his fist over himself. “Ah…Steve…Steve…feels good…”

“Yeah?” Steve asked through a hoarse tone. Bucky could tell Steve was getting close to coming. “You like touching yourself, baby?”

“Wish it…wish it was you,” Bucky breathed out. He bucked his hips into his touch, greedily trying to pull as much heat and pleasure out as he possibly could. He was so close… He wanted to come so badly.

“God, Bucky,” Steve breathed out. “M’gonna come soon.”

“Me too,” Bucky hissed.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They watched each other play with themselves, panting heavily. Bucky was slightly disappointed Steve had kept his pants on the entire time, but he was completely mesmerized by Steve’s face. His mouth was so supple and open as he let out these small, breathy gasps. That dimple between his brows was deep and pronounced. Bucky loved looking at Steve’s face like this.

“Ah…shit…fuck– Bucky…” Steve whined. “Bucky…I’m…I’m coming baby. Oh God–” Steve jerked his hips up, moaning loudly as he came into his hand.

Bucky’s stomach flooded with familiar heat as his balls pinched up into his body. Heat pulsed violently into his dick, sputtering hot liquid out against his fingers as he cried out incoherently. He dropped his face into the bed, ass up, as he continued to pump at himself through his orgasm, letting come squirt against his chest and stomach. He’d closed his eyes, listening to Steve’s ragged breathing as he came down from his orgasm. Bucky pumped at himself faster, slipping his fingers over his tip as he felt another build in his stomach. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get two back-to-back orgasms when he touched himself. Though the second was never as _wet_ as the first one. He cried out, pushing his face into his bed as he felt another, smaller orgasm rock through his body, coil down his spine and push frantically out his dick. He shivered, lips quivering and toes curling as he stoked up and down his cock, pulling out as much pleasure as he could. “Steve…Steve…fuck…oh fuck Steve…” he whined.

When the heat started to dissipate, he slowed his strokes, fingering around his tip and smearing come against his hand before dropped it and curling up against himself. His chest was heaving, up and down in uneven gasps.

“You came twice?” Steve asked, sounding a bit impressed.

“It happens when I touch myself sometimes. Especially when my head’s all loud with images of hot doctors with their mouths around my dick.”

Steve laughed. “I’m gonna make you come twice like that. Put it on your bucket list.”

Bucky let out a wispy chortle. “When I can move again…”

Steve stood up, slipping out of his pants and underwear. Bucky watched through hooded lids as he saw a flash of thick, muscular thighs and the soft shape of Steve’s round ass. Steve was gone from the camera for a brief few minutes.

Bucky pulled himself up; looking down at the mess he’d created on himself. He reached over the bed for his boxers and started mopping it up into them.

Steve was back, wearing a pair of gray sweats and no shirt. His chest was still rising and falling heavily. Fuck, Bucky could stare at those pecs all day.

“I liked this,” Bucky whispered softly. “I wanna do it again.”

Steve laughed. “Okay. But you’ve gotta be a _good boy_ , remember?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Christ, Steve. You’re so hot when you’re talkin’ to me like that.”

“Hah! Thanks. I tried. Though, I contemplated being the biggest shit to you and making you stop touching yourself when I saw you start coming.”

“I would have reached through the screen and murdered you,” Bucky said as he curled up with the phone pressed almost to his nose.

Steve was practically cackling at that. His shoulders shook and he grabbed at his chest, as if that’d do anything to stop him from bouncing in his chair. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened.”

“So…you’re really gonna buy me toys?” Bucky asked with an impish smile.

“Oh fuck yeah. Get’s kinda boring if we do the same thing over and over.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” Bucky hummed out. He flipped on his other side, keeping the phone pressed close to his face. “Steve…”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve’s voice was softer, more serious now. Like whatever Bucky had to say next was the most important thing in the world.

“I wanna find a way to stay the night with you, one night. That’s also gonna be on the bucket list.”

Steve nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. “Okay, baby.”

“Do you care if I go to sleep now?”

“Not at all.”

“Steve?” Bucky pressed, fighting off the weight that seemed to climb into his eyelids.

“Yes, Bucky?”

“I’m really happy you’re my boyfriend.”

Steve chuckled softly. “Me too, Buck.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if saying he loved Steve was appropriate yet, and especially since they’d just had Skype sex, basically. Maybe after real sex. Bucky was pretty sure Steve already knew how Bucky felt. Bucky just hoped Steve was falling in love with him too.

“Night, Steve,” Bucky said, hovering over the “end call” button.

“Night, Buck.”

Bucky clicked the red X, ending the call. He clutched the phone against his heart, sleepily closing his eyes and slipping it further under the covers, just in case his parents decided to come in during the night…

No one was ever going to find his phone. He’d die before letting that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I'd love to talk to you! (Why do I find myself really in love with cam sex now????)
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)  
> We should be friends. I like friends. Haha


	6. Sepsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finally faces the cold realization about his future with Bucky but he finds a friend to lean on despite it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some explaining of this chapter after it's finished in lower notes. 
> 
> Warning, more porn gifs in the end notes!!
> 
> Shoutout to [Perfbucky](http://perfbucky.tumblr.com/) (my Mai <3) for being such an awesome beta!!!

**[SR 1:34 PM] Bucky! Me buying you a phone did not mean you had an open invitation to send me dick pics all day!** Steve typed into his phone. It’d been a month since he’d gotten Bucky a phone and within that month, Steve had seen Bucky twice– in passing. Bucky saw Dr. Jarvis at his office but it was on hospital campus grounds and Steve hadn’t wanted to pass a chance of seeing Bucky so he made the trip across the sweltering parking lot to pretend he was going to his car when Bucky was just getting out of his. Luckily, Bucky’s parents didn’t know that hospital staff had designated parking lots and they were more than happy to talk to Steve. He’d been more than happy to steal sideways glances of Bucky.

A month was a long time to only see your boyfriend for a total of five minutes and Steve was going absolutely insane. What made matters worse, was that their almost nightly excursions of phone sex was starting to bore Steve. He’d even had trouble getting it up last night (much to his absolute panic and concern). Bucky was a fucking _dream_ on the phone– all mewling and whiny. However, Steve wanted more. He was tired of hearing that tiny bit of crackling fuzz on from the phone receiver and he hated that he couldn’t touch Bucky’s soft skin or kiss his lashes when he’d come so hard he’d start to cry.

Steve needed to take Bucky on a date. Just which date off the boy’s bucket list and how was a whole other operation in and of itself.

**[BB 1:37 PM] But it misses you!**

Steve had to keep from snorting as he sat at the conference table with twelve other doctors and the Chief of Pediatrics, Brock Rumlow. This was their quarterly meeting where they discussed pro bono treatments and surgeries as well as various concerns or advancements in medicine. These meetings were boring.

**[SR 1:40 PM] Tell it I miss it too, but it doesn’t need to keep sending me selfies!** Steve texted back with a smirk.

He had his phone between his legs, squeezing it there so he could pretend he was interested in Bruce’s request for a pro bono project on a kid that needed neurosurgery. Steve of course was very upset for the child but he couldn’t stop the smiles that kept spreading on his lips when he felt his phone vibrate between his legs.

Steve pulled up Bucky’s text to see a close-up of Bucky’s mouth. It was pink and swollen and he was biting at the corner. Steve’s eyes widened as he shoved the phone back between his legs. He took a deep breath before pulling the phone back out and quickly typing:

**[SR 1:45 PM] Give a man a warning! Christ, Bucky! Are you trying to kill me?!**

Instantly his phone vibrated.

**[BB 1:46] I only wanted to let you know that my mouth misses you too. So do my fingers. And my eyes. And my ass. My ass misses you a lot.**

Steve had to cross his legs. He bit his lip, trying to concentrate now on Dr. Rumlow’s questions as he evaluated where Bruce stood with the child who needed brain surgery.

**[SR 1:50 PM] My tongue misses your ass ;)** Steve typed back, chewing his bottom lip.

“Dr. Rogers?” Rumlow’s rugged voice permeated Steve’s mind. “Anything you wanna add?”

Steve looked up, his face turning beet red. “Uh…B-Banner’s great. I think he’s got a huge chance at success with the surgery and even if it’s exploratory, mortality risk is still low, so...you should approve it.”

Rumlow eyed Steve for a moment before turning back to Bruce and saying, “You got my approval. Take it up with your Chief of Surgery.”

Bruce silently thanked Rumlow and bowed out of the room.

Sadly, Steve was still stuck and now he was pretty sure Rumlow was going to be paying a bit more attention to him than normal. At least this wasn’t high school where the teacher would take the phone away. Instead, Steve only got grilled about twenty different ways on each of his patients.

* * *

 

“Heard Dr. Rumlow’s been in a pissy mood as of late,” Sharon said as she leaned on the nurses’ station. She was chewing a pink pen that matched her _Winnie the Pooh_ pink scrubs with little Piglets on it.

“He’s just angry that his pro bono hours got slashed. The hospital wants more money,” Steve answered. He picked up Peter’s chart and flipped a few pages. Peter hadn’t been doing so well as of late. Steve had made a promise that he’d call Bucky and get him to the hospital in the event Peter was dying but there was no need for anything drastic just yet.

“Don’t you love that medicine is a business? Kids’ lives are literally hanging in the balance,” Sharon huffed, shaking her head. “Sickens me sometimes.”

“I know, Shar,” Steve sympathized. “Unfortunately it’s either this way or no way. I’d rather be able to save some than none.”

Sharon shrugged, clearly unsettled. Still, she put the subject aside, opting for one Steve would rather not speak about. “Have you heard anything about Barnes?”

Steve always felt extremely uncomfortable when Sharon brought up Bucky. He could never tell if she knew and just didn’t want to say anything or if she had no idea but knew Steve thought of him as a favorite patient. It was a delicate game and Steve wasn’t sure if he was the cat or the mouse. “Nope. Heard he’s been seeing Dr. Jarvis over at his office.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sharon added. “Dr. Jarvis is a good friend of mine. Told me he saw you talking to Bucky outside.”

_‘Jesus, woman…’_

Steve ran his hand over his face, faking a yawn. “Well, yeah. I parked my car that way. Kind of just circumstance.”

“You didn’t park with all the other staff?”

“I need to check on Peter. We’ll talk later?” Steve asked as he started walking backwards through the hall.

Sharon sighed and rolled her eyes. “We certainly will, Steve!”

Steve didn’t like that. He didn’t like the way she said it, like she was getting ready to lecture Steve on his life choices; how it distinctly sounded like a mother about to scold her child. Still, Steve had to keep himself as cool as possible. He wouldn’t freak out and confess anything unless he was literally faced with it and even then he’d probably still be clawing at whatever he could to deflect the situation. He wasn’t ready for the world to start spewing “pedophile” at him, despite the fact that they weren’t doing anything legally wrong. Just ethically…

Steve popped into Peter’s room. The boy was thinner than he was a few weeks ago, deep purple bags under his eyes and bluing lips. Steve winced. Chemo had been taking a serious toll on Peter as of late and some of the nurses had started to think this was the beginning of the end for Peter. Steve wasn’t having any of that talk. Peter was a fighter. He’d continue to be a fighter.

Silently, Steve moved over to check Peter’s temperature and look over his vitals. When he heard the boy mumble, he grabbed one of the rolling stools and sat next to the bed. “Afternoon sleepy head.”

“Af-noo,” Peter slurred heavily, his eyelids drooping.

“Can you talk to me Peter?” Steve asked, checking Peter’s pulse.

“Steve,” Peter breathed out. “How’s Bucky?”

Steve licked his lips, touching his phone in his coat pocket. “He’s healthy.”

Peter nodded, closing his eyes. “Thassgood.”

“Sleep well, Pete,” Steve whispered before silently slipping from the room.

It wasn’t unusual for lymphoma patients to be low on energy but Peter was skinnier than he used to be, paler and it was hard to get him to eat. He slept most days and suffered chronic nosebleeds now. Steve didn’t want to believe this could potentially be some of the last months Peter had, but his physician’s mind was telling him one thing and one thing only: the end was near.

It was selfish of Steve, to slip into one of the doctor’s napping rooms. It was disgusting that the idea of Peter dying only made Steve think of one person. He should be in that room with Peter, sitting there and going over treatment plans and anything that could potentially extend Peter’s life but Steve was in a dark room, opening a bright phone screen and punching in the numbers to a voice he needed to hear most.

_“Hey baby!”_ Bucky greeted enthusiastically. _“Was just about to send you another picture!”_

“I need to see you,” Steve blurted, his heart climbing into his throat. “When can I see you?”

_“Are you okay?”_ Bucky asked.

“I’m fine. I just need to hold you.” Steve ran his fingers back and forth through his hair anxiously.

Bucky giggled. _Fuck_ , that sound was like rays of sunlight against a spring fountain.

Steve slipped against the door, crumpling onto the floor with his knees pressed against his chest. “So when can I see you, baby?”

_“Uhh,”_ Bucky drawled. _“I could ask my parents to drop me off for a movie? Tell them it’s a double feature and we could see a movie and then go for ice cream?”_

“That on your bucket list?” Steve asked, feeling a cold tremor plague his back. He hated knowing Bucky had a bucket list. Seventeen-year-old boys weren’t supposed to be making bucket lists. They were supposed to be going out for sports teams and popping zits.

_“Yeah, but I’ve got about fifteen things I wanna do in a movie theater so we’ll have to go back_ ,” he laughed.

“Like what?” Steve asked, swallowing loudly. “Tell me.” He hated how badly he needed to hear Bucky’s voice. He hated that his worry wasn’t pointed at the boy actively dying down the hall but the boy Steve was in love with. The boy who was healthy right now and could very well stay that way for years, and yet Steve was here, hiding in a dark room away from the other hospital staff, away from Peter and hanging on every single syllable that came from Bucky’s mouth like it was the fucking word of God.

_“…You sure you’re okay, Steve?”_ Bucky ventured.

“Just talk to me, baby,” Steve whispered. “I just need your voice.”

Steve heard the sounds of crinkling paper and soft creaks from a bed. _“Let’s see,”_ Bucky mused. _“I’ve got that I wanna make out in a movie theater, give each other handies in the back, see if I can suck you off for an entire movie–”_

“An entire movie, Buck?” Steve challenged, moving the phone from one ear to the other.

_“Hell yeah. Gonna get you back for that night you made me touch myself with just a finger!”_

Steve cracked a wide grin, poking at his white shoes. “That sounds real good, Buck.”

_“So which one do you wanna do tonight?”_ Bucky asked.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Steve replied. “I just need you.”

_“Okay. I’ll text you when I talk to my parents. And Steve?”_

“Yeah?” Steve responded. He was calming down. Bucky was alive and safe and Peter Parker was the one slipping from the world. Steve should be in there with Peter. A good doctor would be.

_“Whenever you’re sad, I want you to call me,”_ Bucky instructed gently.

“I’m not sad!” Steve interjected, his voice going an octave higher.

_“Bullshit, Steve,”_ Bucky said flatly. _“I know what sadness sounds like. I spend most of my life feeling it.”_

Steve couldn’t argue with that. He sighed, dropping his head back against the door. “It’s just…sometimes my job can get really depressing.”

_“Wanna talk about it?”_

“No. Not yet. When I know it’s true then maybe, but not yet.” Steve didn’t want to worry Bucky. There was still a chance Peter could bounce back. He’d bounced back before. Steve just had to have hope; had to be diligent.

_“Okay, then I’ll talk to you later?”_ Bucky asked.

“Yeah. Text me when you talk to your parents. I don’t care which movie we see.”

Bucky snorted. _“I figured you didn’t. I wanna see a scary movie! So I can get all close to you and wiggle my fingers into your pants.”_

“Mm, sounds nice,” Steve purred. “Gotta go, baby.”

_“Have a good day, Steve.”_

Steve hung up the phone, staring at the thing for a few more minutes. Bucky was safe, healthy and for once– happy. Steve didn’t have to worry about him so much right now. He needed all his focus on Peter Parker. It was Peter who Steve had to be worried for.

Standing up, Steve brushed himself off and rubbed at his face, scratching over the bristles of his beard that were sprouting back. He needed to be a good doctor. He needed to keep hoping Peter would pull through. The last thing Steve wanted was to bring Bucky in here and watch him fall to pieces over his dying friend.

Steve wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

* * *

 

Sinister 2 was the movie Bucky had decided on. Steve wasn’t entirely convinced it was a “horror” movie– more of an eerie movie with some horror bits but overall just kind of strange? He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. But he wasn’t here for the movie. He was here for the warmth at his side, the silken strands of brown hairs that tickled beneath his jaw and the hand that was slowly running up and down the length of his hardening cock atop his jeans.

He adjusted himself, spreading his legs more so Bucky could continue his ministrations. Slender fingers moved lazily up and down Steve’s dick, just barely there but enough to make him bite his lip and occasionally drop his head back.

Something loud happened on the screen, causing Bucky to jump.

Steve wrapped his arm tighter around Bucky’s shoulders, pressing a kiss into his temple. “Scary?”

“I didn’t expect it!” Bucky whispered back enthusiastically. “You like the movie so far?”

Steve rolled his hips up into Bucky’s palm, shifting so he’d get more of Bucky’s fingers against his dick. “Eh, I like the sideshow better.”

There weren’t many people in the theater, the movie had been out for awhile and on top of that, it was a horror film. They were situated in the last row and the nearest people were two rows up. Steve felt safe enough that no one would realize what they were doing as long as he kept his mouth shut.

“Want more of my fingers?” Bucky breathed against Steve’s neck, darting his tongue out shyly to lap just beneath Steve’s jaw.

Steve sighed in contentment, leaning his head to the side so Bucky could place two more kisses along the line of his neck. “Please.”

Bucky giggled, moving his hand to unbutton Steve’s jeans. He slipped his fingers into Steve’s briefs and lightly traced his fingers along the man’s erection.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded through an urgent whisper. “Pull it out.”

“What if we get caught?” Bucky teased.

Something was happening on the screen. Something about siblings fighting and one of the boys called his mother a “cunt.” Steve absolutely hated that word. He’d never uttered it a day in his life and he certainly never would. Women deserved more respect than having that word thrown in their faces– especially mothers.

God, Steve missed his mother.

Diverting his attention back to Bucky, he willed his other thoughts away; thoughts of Peter, thoughts of his late mom, thoughts of ghosts and boogey men… Bucky was the only thing that existed in Steve’s world and the way his soft fingers teased at his cock felt so damn good.

“Please,” Steve whined. “Pull it out.” He leaned back, circling his hips up into Bucky’s touch.

Bucky licked his lips softly; even in the dark theater, Steve could still see the shape of that pink little tongue. “Okay.” Bucky moved to his knees in front of Steve and that’s when Steve completely forgot they were in a movie theater.

He rolled his head back, letting out a puff of air as Bucky pulled his dick out and gently lapped at its underside.

“Bucky…” Steve sighed. “Fuck please, Bucky.”

They hadn’t been together in such a long time. Hadn’t touched each other, hadn’t held each other. Steve felt like he was overly sensitive to the boy beneath him, gently sucking on the tip of his cock with fingers slipping deeper into his briefs to give his balls a soft squeeze.

Steve wanted to pull Bucky up by his hips and fuck him into one of the chairs but that’d be too much. He’d have to settle for whatever he could get, even though Bucky seemed more than content to suck him off in a movie theater, and Steve wasn’t going to complain about it for a second.

Bucky’s lips brushed against the tip, circling around the slit before sucking it back into his mouth. His fingers pumped lazily at the base, occasionally slipping back down to give his sac another squeeze.

Steve’s breathing was louder. He bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning when Bucky’s tongue played with his slit. “Y-you’re not gonna tease me like this for the rest of the movie, right?”

The devilish grin Bucky gave was almost horrifying. Steve whined loudly. His heart shot up into his throat as he realized his mistake. He looked around the theater, silently thanking God no one turned to look back.

Bucky started to bob softly, his motions too slow to bring Steve to a climax but pointed enough that they made the older man roll up into his mouth rhythmically. He pulled back, making the softest little sounds around Steve’s cock as he wrapped his lips around it again, coating them with saliva. He sucked lightly, not using any tongue unless it accidently bumped Steve’s cock.

Steve grabbed at the armrests, panting louder now, gaze completely fixed on Bucky. His mouth was warm and wet and Christ, the way he’d look up every now and then, smiling around Steve’s dick. Steve wanted to come… He wanted to coat this boy in his seed and lick it off him. “Too slow…” he whispered. “Please, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged. He pulled back once more to press chaste kisses, one after the other against the tip of Steve’s cock.

Steve wanted to yell. He hated that he couldn’t groan, whine, moan, or even laugh at the situation. Bucky was being the biggest tease since Marilyn Monroe and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He bumped his dick against Bucky’s face, watching it slip against his cheek to place a wet streak against the bone.

Bucky looked up, a pleased smirk on his face as he grabbed Steve’s dick. He wrapped his fingers around it, pumping quickly as he brought the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue against it.

Relief surged through Steve like dam giving way. He melted into Bucky’s touch, feeling pleasure turn from tingling ecstasy at his spine turn into rolling heat in his stomach.

Bucky stopped entirely.

Steve lunged in his seat, grabbing Bucky’s shoulders and breathing raggedly. “You little…you fu–”

Bucky pulled Steve’s face into his, clashing their lips together. “You look so pretty, all needy for me,” Bucky whispered. “I wish you’d always look like this.”

“Bucky,” Steve whined softly. “Don’t leave me like this.”

“Who said I’m leavin’ you? We got more of the movie.” He sat back on his haunches spitting into his hand and grabbing Steve’s dick, coating it with an expert flick of the wrist; thumb smearing the leaking precome around the tip. “I bet you wanna put this big dick into me, huh?”

“Bucky!” Steve hissed. “We’re in a theater!”

Bucky laughed, shrugging with a solo shoulder. “So? S’yer imagination, right?”

Steve sat back in his chair, wincing when it creaked beneath him. He looked around at the people– no one noticed, or if they did, they were too embarrassed to say anything. “Yeah…I’d love to fill you up. Get you back for what you’re doing to me.”

Bucky giggled, his breath tickling Steve’s cockhead. “I’ll bet you’d fuck me real good, Steve. Go nice and slow, take your time workin’ me open?” He pumped lazily at Steve’s dick, bringing his fingers to the tip and circling two fingers around the slit.

“Oh fuck,” Steve whispered. “Yes, yes whatever you want, baby.”

“Whatever I want?” Bucky echoed. “Want you to fuck me nice n’ slow. Long thrusts so I can feel every–” He kissed the tip of Steve’s dick. “Inch–“ Again, another kiss. “Of this pretty dick.” He lapped at the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit. “Would you like that, Steve?”

“I’d like a lot of things right now,” Steve rushed out in an urgent whisper. “Like coming… I’d like coming right about now.”

“Nnn,” Bucky mused. “Maybe later. Movie’s still on.”

“I secretly hate you right now,” Steve laughed softly. “Like a lot.”

Bucky shrugged again, moving his lips closer to Steve’s tip. “I could always stop then?” His breath was hot against Steve’s throbbing, leaking cock and the way his lips _moved_ against it almost drove him to insanity.

“Please don’t,” Steve begged. “Please don’t stop.”

Bucky scooted further between Steve’s legs, wrapping his lips around Steve, letting his tongue swirl his entire length before pulling back with a pointed wet sound. “Think I wanna see how the movie ends.”

“I swear to God, Bucky,” Steve warned.

“Swear what?” Bucky asked as he let the lines of his palm trace over Steve’s sensitive tip. “What’re you gonna do?”

Steve whimpered, feeling tears start forming at the corners of his eyes. “Curl into a ball and die.”

Bucky’s face soured. He pressed wet kisses to the tip of Steve’s dick, letting his tongue lap at the precome. “I don’t want that.”

Steve rolled his head back, relishing in the pleasure that Bucky’s soft tongue offered. “Then let me come, baby.”

Bucky’s mouth covered Steve’s dick, his tongue slipping up and down the underside as he held it there for a few seconds.

Steve’s mouth dropped open as a moan almost ripped from his mouth. He bit down onto his tongue, tasting metal as he rolled up into Bucky’s mouth, hitting the back of the boy’s throat.

Bucky gagged softly before bobbing up and down Steve’s length.

Steve’s body was shaking, his nerves felt fried and he wasn’t sure he had any coordination left in him. His gaze darted to the screen, watching a rather horrific scene where rats were placed in pots with hot coals atop them so they’d burrow through the bodies beneath…

He looked back down, forcing that gruesome image away and focused solely on Bucky; listening to the sounds he made as he worked over Steve’s cock, feeling the way his tongue slipped expertly along the curves of his dick and reveling in those fingers as they’d squeeze and fondle at Steve’s sac.

“Fuck…Bucky…oh Bucky,” Steve breathed out. “Please let me come.”

Bucky didn’t’ slow down. He coated Steve’s dick in a slippery layer of saliva, bobbing back and forth.

Steve slipped his fingers into Bucky’s hair, pulling softly at the strands and petting his lover approvingly. He thrust into Bucky’s mouth, shivering when he hit the boy’s throat. Heat pooled in his loins, his muscles tightening and nerves shrieking. He couldn’t stand it. He felt he’d literally die (or pass out) if Bucky pulled back. He secured his hand behind Bucky’s head, palming the boy’s cranium as he pushed softly, hedging Bucky on as he continued to fuck himself gently into that eager and wet mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Curling his toes in his shoes and lifting from the seat, Steve felt his orgasm zing down his spine, pushing out from his balls and sending shockwaves into his dick. He clenched his jaw, whining desperately through a strangled whimper that probably sounded more painful than pleasurable. Relief cascaded against him like a waterfall, covering his shoulders, his back, his shins. He spilled himself into Bucky’s mouth, feeling a new set of tears cling to the corners of his eyes.

Bucky didn’t stop sucking Steve into his mouth. Steve saw tiny slips of come spill from the boy’s lips as he slipped his mouth back and forth against Steve’s cock. His eyes were closed and brow furrowed in determination.

Steve had never felt so gratified before. His body was numbing warmly, dick softening despite Bucky’s beautiful tongue still swirling around it. He pushed his hips forward again, breathing steadying as he let Bucky continue to lavish his dick till his heart’s content. It was bearable now, not as intense and Steve was perfectly okay with that.

He’d get Bucky back later though… He was always thinking of ways to make this boy squirm.

Bucky swallowed Steve’s seed down before dropping his dick from his mouth. He reached over to their abandoned popcorn and grabbed one of the napkins. He dabbed it first at his face, cleaning off the semen that’d slipped from his mouth before dabbing it against Steve’s soft cock.

Tucking Steve back into his pants, Bucky sat back into his chair, pressing kisses into Steve’s mouth.

Steve slipped his tongue past Bucky’s lips, tasting the remnants of himself on that tongue he loved so much. He wrapped his fingers into Bucky’s hair, pulling Bucky just _that_ much closer. Bucky was here. He was healthy. Alive.

Peter…

Peter was struggling. Yet Steve had been implicitly drawn to Bucky, had become ravenous for affirmation that Bucky was okay.

_‘Fuck, what’s wrong with me?’_

“You okay?” Bucky whispered against Steve’s lips. “You stopped kissin’ me.”

Steve blinked, looking down at Bucky’s large, doe eyes. “Brain’s not recovered from your mouth yet,” he teased, tucking his thumb beneath Bucky’s chin and running a finger over those soft lips.

Bucky smiled, looking down at their shoes. “So what’s happening in the movie?”

Steve laughed out loud.

People finally turned to look at him…

* * *

 

The ice cream parlor was crowded with families and screaming children, but instead of being irritated at the situation, Steve was positively ecstatic. Bucky had his face pressed to the glass, his palms out against it as he scanned the ice cream selections. His little ass was wiggling excitedly when he finally settled on “dinosaur egg” ice cream. Steve was pretty sure that just meant vanilla with cookie dough and a lot of food dye but he simply smiled at the selection before ordering himself two scoops of moose tracks.  

“Hands,” Steve ordered. He pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer and waited for Bucky to cup his hands before him. Steve squirted a dollop into Bucky’s hands before doing the same for himself. He’d found himself constantly carrying hand sanitizer and even some bleach wipes (that he had used despite Bucky’s protests at the theater). He wouldn’t be the reason Bucky got sick because he was touching things other people had touched. No amount of whining or glares from Bucky would change Steve’s decision. At least Bucky wasn’t against the hand sanitizer.

“Wanna sit over there?” Bucky asked as he pointed to the table in front of the bathrooms.

Steve winced, looking at an empty table near a large family, but it was closer to the door. “It’s so close to the bathrooms. What if people touched it and didn’t wash their hands?”

Bucky huffed but he stomped over to the table near the family.

Steve felt guilty. Perhaps he was taking this too seriously and realistically, germs didn’t just sit in one spot, they spread and floated and divided. It probably wasn’t any safer near the front of the shop than the back of it but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to stop worrying.

He slid into one of the chairs next to Bucky, taking a lick of his ice cream. “You like yours?”

Bucky looked at the cone, running his tongue from the base to the top. “Wish your dick tasted like this.”

Steve looked over to the family nearby. “Sh! Not so loud, you horny teenager,” he laughed.

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the family. “Eh, they’re too busy dealing with snot and sticky hands.”

Steve smiled, watching the children mess with their ice cream bowls and stick their fingers into it. He’d always imagined himself having kids one day, though, reality had a harsh way of alerting things. Instead of having children he was dating one.

“You’ve been really weird lately,” Bucky grumbled, licking around the cone to make sure the ice cream didn’t dribble down onto it.

Steve sat back, sighing loudly. “I had a bad day at work.”

“Tell me, that’s what boyfriends do, right? Talk to each other?”

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” Steve diverted. He ran his fingers over Bucky’s ear, tucking the strands away. “I want you to stay that way.”

Bucky furrowed his brow, staring at Steve like he was sprouting a second head. “Who died?”

Of course Bucky would go that far. It was a thought that was constantly on his mind. “No one, baby.”

“Did you fuck somethin’ up?”

“No.”

“Jesus, Steve!” Bucky huffed, slamming back in his chair. “What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing!” Steve exasperated. “Just someone’s sicker than usual.”

“Peter?” Bucky asked, his eyes rounding.

Steve nodded tightly. “His oncologist gave him a few more months.”

Bucky leaned forward, staring at the table with its tiny, sparkling confetti details. “No…”

“I didn’t wanna tell you yet. Just in case? He’s pulled through something like this before.”

They sat there in silence, listening to the shrieks and laughter from the tables around them as parents cleaned their kids off or helped them eat ice cream. Steve had never felt so uncomfortable. It was like his skin didn’t fit right. He hated making Bucky look so upset. He hated watching the color drain from his precious boy’s face. _‘Precious boy? Christ…get a hold of yourself…’_

“Peter’s never been afraid to die, you know,” Bucky stated flatly, shattering the silence with his shaky voice. “I’ve always envied that.”

“Hmm?” Steve prompted.

Sighing, Bucky looked over at the family again, staring with glassy eyes. “I get really angry at people. People that don’t have nothin’ wrong. That kid didn’t have to sanitize his fingers when he touched the glass. That girl over there can sit near the bathroom just fine. I get angry cause…I’m not as strong as them.”

“Bucky–”

“No, it’s okay,” Bucky protested. “I just wish I wasn’t so scared of dyin’ cause of it.”

Steve wasn’t so much in the mood for ice cream anymore. He stared at his, watching the ice cream soften and melt onto the cone. “Wanna talk about it?”

Bucky sighed, slumping his shoulders. “I talk to Dr. Jarvis a lot about it. About death.”

“What does he say?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. “Says we’re all scared. Some people just face it braver.”

“You know,” Steve began, licking his ice cream before it started to run onto his fingers. “I’m scared of death too.”

“Really?” The hope that shimmered in those blue eyes almost shattered Steve’s heart to oblivion.

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. I mean, I believe in God and think there’s some place else but, I don’t _really_ know. The body gets lighter though, after people die. We like to think it’s the soul leaving the body.”

“I just don’t wanna forget you,” Bucky mumbled, letting his ice cream start to melt over his knuckles. “That’s what I’m scared of most.”

Steve reached over the table, grabbing Bucky’s clean hand and giving it a squeeze. “I know.” They didn’t speak again, but Steve didn’t move away. He didn’t care that a child was asking his mom why they were holding hands. He didn’t care that it was painfully obvious how much older he was. He wanted to pull Bucky into him. He wanted to shroud this boy with any protection he could offer and find a way to be with each other for eternity. But alas, science wasn’t on Steve’s side.

They’d both die one day.

“I wanna go,” Bucky whispered. “Can we just sit in your car?”

“Sure, Buck,” Steve answered. He took their unfinished cones and dropped them into the garbage before escorting Bucky over to his car.

“I always knew you’d be the kind of doctor to not drive a fancy car,” Bucky said as he slid into the passenger seat of the Toyota.

“Not really one for flashy things,” Steve replied. “Want the radio on?”

“No,” Bucky answered. He turned and pulled Steve’s face to his. His lips enveloped Steve’s as he whimpered.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped, pulling back.

“I need you,” Bucky pleaded. “Please?”

“In a car?”

“It’s on my bucket list.”

Steve smirked. “Let’s at least go in the backseat? I’d rather be near the tinted windows.”

Bucky squirmed into the backseat, waiting impatiently for Steve to follow. He squirmed as he sat, jumping into Steve’s lap when Steve finally made it into the backseat. His fingers roamed across Steve’s chest, fingering over a nipple through his shirt. “I never wanna forget you,” Bucky whispered. “I…”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted, cupping the boy’s face. “Don’t. You’re healthy. You’re here and so am I. Just be with me okay?” Steve was painfully aware of the tears that were slipping from Bucky’s eyes. He watched them slip along the curve of Bucky’s face and into the flesh of his palm. “Let me take care of you.”

Bucky sobbed, dropping his face into Steve’s chest. He shook against Steve, his tears wetting Steve’s shirt.

Steve’s heart was laced with barbed wire. Nothing he did or said could ever stop the pain that Bucky felt. “This isn’t fair,” He breathed out. “No boy your age should feel this way.”

Bucky only sobbed harder.

“You should be trying out for sports teams, dreaming of college and moving out of your parents’ house.”

Bucky clung to his shirt, pushing his face into Steve’s clavicle almost painfully.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” Steve confessed. “I don’t know what to say.”

Bucky pulled back, his eyes were puffy and red and those _lips_ all shining and pouted. He hiccupped a few times, brushing the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s wrist so he could catch the next tear. “You’ve no reason to be sorry.”

“I wanted to fuck in your car and instead I start cryin’.”

Steve laughed, looking out the window at the graying clouds. He clicked his tongue before saying, “Eh, we should get you back into the theater anyway.”

“I wish I could go home with you,” Bucky sulked.

Steve licked at his lips, nodding tightly. Oh how he wished the same. He’d pull Bucky into him on the sofa, wrap a blanket around them and turn on the TV till they both nodded off in each other’s arms. “Yeah, I know.”

Bucky sighed heavily, opening the door and getting out of the car.

Steve followed suit, shivering from the wind. “S’gonna storm I think.”

“I guess,” Bucky snapped back.

Steve furrowed his brow watching Bucky walk back toward the cinema. “Hey!”

“What?” Bucky snapped.

“What’s wrong?” Steve questioned.

Bucky sighed again, as if the idea of explaining himself was unheard of. “You know how bad I got it for you right?”

Steve nodded, his brow creased and lips pressed into a hard line.

“You never say this kind of shit back to me. It’s always just me sayin’ stupid things I shouldn’t.”

“It’s not stupid,” Steve defended. He looked both ways before crossing the street, pulling Bucky along by the wrist. “Do you really want me to do this here? Outside of a movie theater?”

Bucky chewed his bottom lip, looking at his toes. “I don’t know. I’m just the kind of person who lives like I don’t got a tomorrow. I don’t wait for _the right time_ bullshit.”

They stood outside the theater letting the wind push against them. Steve didn’t like the way he saw goosebumps rise on Bucky’s arms. “We should go inside. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“I’m sick Steve, I’m not broken!” Bucky protested. “How do you really feel about me?”

Steve threw his hands up in the air. He understood Bucky’s plight. He really did. Sharon wasn’t wrong when she said Bucky was obsessed with Steve, and Steve was too dumb and nice to really approach the situation. He didn’t know if Bucky actually knew what love was, but he was pretty sure Bucky thought he did love him.

“Why do you think I want you out of the wind? Why I make sure to Clorox your seat before you sit and sanitize your hands?”

“So I don’t get sick,” Bucky answered through a pouting lip.

“Because I care way too much about you, Bucky,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s hands. “I don’t know if it’s love or because it’s taboo or just affection but I really care about you. I spend most of my time thinking about you and when I’m with you I spend more time thinking of ways to see you again.”

Bucky offered a soft half-smile, rolling onto his toes to kiss Steve’s cheek. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” Steve laughed. “I pass this test?”

“We should go inside before my parents roll up,” Bucky suggested. “But yeah, you passed the test.”

Steve stopped holding his breath, moving so he could open the door for Bucky. Once Bucky slipped in, he followed suit. He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to Bucky about how he wanted to fall asleep on a couch with him, or tickle him with his toes as they’d lie in a bed together.

The truth is, Steve was falling madly in love with this boy, but he was terrified of telling him. Love meant looking at the future and Steve didn’t want to do anything that made Bucky think about the future, because it always reminded him of his death.

* * *

 

Bucky lay on his bed, tossing a racquetball as he waited for his phone to chime. He’d put a chair in front of his door so no one could come in. He even started getting more vocal about going into his room to masturbate just to keep his parents from barging in. It made moaning a bit easier too…

His father attempted “the talk” with him, but it only ended in a screaming match because Bucky wanted to hear about the birds and the birds and not the birds and the bees. He didn’t want to hear about “this is where you may discover you’re not really gay.” He’d wanted to scream that he’d already been having sex _so badly,_ but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d never endanger Steve’s job like that. Bucky had done his own fair share of research on the subject and even if things were legal, they weren’t ethical.

Steve was ethically so very in the wrong. According to hospital codes, he was breaking at least three different ones and they could all end with the same results; medical malpractice suits or job termination.

Bucky wouldn’t let that happen. Steve was the best damn doctor he knew, and Bucky knew a _lot_ of doctors.

There’d been a lot of storms since the night he’d gone out with Steve. Each night, he’d turn on his skype on his phone and ask Steve to just hum to him while he fell asleep. Tonight was no different. Thunderstorms made Bucky nervous and he needed Steve to hum to him. He wondered what it’d feel like, to actually have Steve there, feeling his chest vibrating as he hummed out that lazy tune. Or what it’d feel like to stretch in a bed lying next to him, to feel their toes brush one another.

**[BB 11:05PM] Where do you live??** Bucky sighed, dropping the phone on his chest. He threw the ball a few more times before tossing it to the other side of his spotlessly clean room. Steve often asked to be shown around the room when they skyped. Apparently a messy room was more germ conducive and that didn’t fly in Steve’s book. Still, that was nice, Bucky thought, to have someone be that finicky about his health.

**[SR 11:15 PM] Whyyy???**

Bucky rolled his eyes. He sat up, typing away on the touchscreen. **[BB 11:17 PM] Because we’re boyfriends and boyfriends should know where each other lives. You know where I live right?**

**[SR 11:18 PM] It’s in your chart.**

**[BB 11:19 PM] Well I aint gotta chart for youu!**

Bucky stared at his phone, wondering what Steve was doing that was making him take so long. He hated when Steve didn’t automatically respond. He knew Steve wasn’t constantly around his phone, but he’d come up with a plan and he needed to go through with it.

A rolling crack of thunder shook the house, causing Bucky to jump a bit as he looked outside at the pelting rain.

**[SR 11:25 PM] In Brooklyn.**

**[[BB 11:26 PM] The fucking hospital’s in Brooklyn! STEEVEEEEEEEEE PLZ Address! I wanna send you something :D**

**[SR 11:28 PM] 12 2** ** nd ** **Street, in Carroll Gardens ya nerd. Don’t send me anything incriminating!**

Bucky hit the lock button on his phone, smiling pleasantly to himself. He quickly got dressed and packed a night bag before opening up his Uber ap and requesting a driver to come pick him up. He slipped out his window into the pouring rain, instantly getting drenched. Climbing down the roof to the porch was a lot harder than he thought. He hung there, looking down at the cement steps below. He needed to drop before someone saw him, especially his parents.

He let go, yelping loudly when he folded into the hard cement. Looking to his arm, he was pretty sure he’d need stitches. At least he was going to see his doctor boyfriend. He turned around, folding his legs into his chest as he sat, shivering and waiting for the Uber driver to come pick him up.

The thunder was louder out there beneath the pounding rain. The lighting was scarier too. Bucky found himself pressing hard against his front door to keep from the rain that splashed onto his porch. Finally, he saw a pair of lights and a car slow down. He got a quizzical look from the driver, but then they were off, and Bucky would be at Steve’s soon. He’d left the door to his room semi-locked with the chair tucked beneath the knob, but it was late and his parents were most likely asleep. He just needed to get home tomorrow before they woke up. This was totally doable.

After the Uber driver dropped Bucky off, he looked up at the townhouse. It wasn’t one of those charming ones with the pretty stone porches or walkways. It was flat for the most part except the moldings around the windows and red– newer. The stairs leading up to the door were nice though, with black iron railings. Bucky slipped through the gate and between the green unkempt hedges. He wondered why Steve kept a garden if no one was around to ever care for it. Knocking on the door, Bucky was finally chattering as the cold soaked into his bones. He knocked again, more urgently this time. Panic set in. What if Steve had gone to sleep? What if he worked in the morning?

Suddenly, Bucky realized how poorly planned this was. He’d never once taken into account what Steve would think of the situation. What if this was entirely wrong? Steve would have to work and he’d stay up to be kind but then Bucky would put him in a bad situation for work tomorrow!

He’d started to turn away from the door, resigning himself to going back home when the door finally opened. “Bucky? You’re soaked!”

Bucky turned back around, shrugging in embarrassment. “I didn’t think this through…”

“Christ, come in, baby.” Steve opened the door more, exposing his foyer and best of all, the warmth and dryness of shelter. “Let’s get you changed.”

Bucky walked in meekly, dipping his head when he slipped by Steve.

“You weren’t actually sending me anything were you?” Steve asked as he led Bucky up the curved staircase to the second floor.

Bucky looked into each room, noticing most were empty. One was a work out room and another a bathroom. “How many bedrooms do you have?”

“Three.”

“Planning for the future?” Bucky questioned.

Steve eyed him warily before opening the bathroom door and grabbing a towel from inside. “Bucky–”

“I know, Steve! I’m an idiot and I fucked up.”

“Shit! Bucky you’re bleeding!” Steve yelled. He ran into his bedroom, grabbing what looked like a small first-aid kit and jogged back over. “Get in the bathroom and take your shirt off!” From the red in Steve’s cheeks, Bucky was pretty sure Steve wasn’t happy right now…

Bucky peeled off his wet shirt, letting it drop loudly to the bathroom floor. He watched as Steve dabbed a washcloth over his wound, clearing away blood and little pebbles of cement.

“How’d this happen?”

“I jumped from my roof.”

Steve looked up with a deadpanned expression. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry? I just don’t like storms.”

“So you thought it was a good idea to jump from your roof in a storm?” Steve exclaimed. “Bucky! You could have killed yourself!”

“S’not that high up, Steve! Jesus!” Bucky yelled back. “I just wanted to fall asleep with you instead.”

Steve sighed, going back to cleaning Bucky’s arm off. “Good news is it’s mostly wide and not deep. You don’t need stitches but I gotta wrap it up.”

“That’s okay,” Bucky chimed, offering a soft smile. “So…can I stay? I know I didn’t really think this through. I was gonna leave n’ go home when you opened the door.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Staying is fine, as long as your parents won’t find out.”

“They’re asleep,” Bucky answered proudly. “Also I put a chair against my door.”

“Wow, that’s not suspicious or anything,” Steve responded sarcastically.

“I just really wanted to see you, okay? I hate storms…” Bucky bit his lip, looking down at Steve’s dog, Cap as he ventured into the bathroom to see what was going on.

Steve wrapped a bandage carefully around Bucky’s arm. “Why do you hate storms?” he asked as he ripped off some medical tape to secure the bandage in place. “Never’ve told me why.”

“They’re loud?” Bucky offered. “I don’t know. Make me feel like the world’s all dark and creepy. Get’s me thinkin’ about dyin’.”

Steve nodded, moving to lean back against the sink. “Lots of things trigger that for you.”

“You don’t,” Bucky said quickly. “I feel really alive with you.”

Something sad crossed Steve’s face before he offered anything to say back. “Let me get you some dry clothes.”

Bucky followed Steve into his bedroom, looking at the large bed and the black-stained wooden furniture. “I like your room.”

“Thanks,” Steve responded as he pulled out a pair of sweats and a shirt. “You’re gonna swim in this, but at least it’s dry. I’ll take your clothes and put them in the laundry.”

Bucky slipped out of the rest of his clothing, not caring that he’d just stripped in front of Steve. It wasn’t like Steve hadn’t seen it before anyway. There was a silent celebration in shedding clothes so casually in front of Steve. Even more of a celebration when Steve didn’t even blink an eye at it. Steve was comfortable with Bucky. That was important to the youth. He’d pushed himself onto Steve and had no regard for how Steve ever felt and here he was doing it again, but at least he knew Steve was comfortable with him.

“Do you work tomorrow?” Bucky asked as he breathed in Steve’s scent on the collar of his shirt.

Steve shook his head. “Nope. I’m on call though.”

“Ain’t doctors always on call?” Bucky asked casually, walking over to Steve’s dresser and looking at the pictures he kept atop it. There weren’t many. He recognized a few of the other doctors in the pictures and then saw a picture when Steve was little with a woman with blonde hair and… Bucky’s heart squeezed. That was his mom– who was dead now.

“For the most part, yeah,” Steve answered.

Bucky took a step back from the dresser, colliding with Steve’s broad chest. He yelped from the unexpected contact but slipped into a comfortable smile when he felt Steve’s nose brush against his neck.

“I miss you every second you’re not with me,” Steve whispered. “Wish you’d have told me you were coming over though.”

“I was afraid you’d say no. Get worried cause of the rain.”

“Oh I’d have definitely said no,” Steve affirmed. “But then I’d have offered to pick you up.”

Bucky turned in Steve’s arms, looking up his boyfriend. “Really?”

“I’m crazy about you, Buck. I told you awhile ago. There’s not much I won’t do for you.”

Bucky smiled feeling happy tears sting his eyes. “I…” He laughed awkwardly, feeling blush heat up his cheeks. “Shit, Steve.”

Steve pressed soft kisses to Bucky’s face, running the pads of his fingers up and down Bucky’s arms. “You look so pretty in my clothes,” he breathed against Bucky’s ears.

“Steve,” Bucky whined, pressing his hips into the blond. Bucky knew what was coming. He’d known since the day’s he’d figured it out. It was bubbling up his throat like a geyser and at this point there wasn’t much sense in holding it back. He wanted to hear himself say it. Wanted to see Steve’s reaction when he did. “I love you.”

The world froze. Every rain drop paused in the air as Bucky waited with baited breath for a response from the lips he’d come to appreciate so much. Thunder halted its booming sounds and even the lighting seemed to shy away. The room became so silent it was suffocating and Bucky was acutely aware of the clock lazily ticking away behind him now.

Steve smiled, pressing a kiss between Bucky’s brows. “Those aren’t easy words, Bucky,” Steve said. “You sure?”

Bucky nodded, feeling Steve pushing his fingers against his hips, leading him back toward the bed. “I love you, Steve. I love you so much.”

Steve purred, pushing Bucky gently against the firm mattress. “You’re going crazy right now, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t funny!” Bucky whined. “Don’t fuck with me.”

Steve laughed, dropping to his knees before Bucky. “I love you too, Buck.”

“Yeah? Why didn’t you say nothin’?” Bucky accused.

Steve sat back on his haunches, biting his lip; letting it flush red and plump up. Bucky licked his lips instinctively, wanting to dive against those lips. “I guess cause love means future and I don’t know how you feel about that.”

Bucky swallowed thickly. He didn’t like the future. The future was full of uncertainty and things he was too scared to hope for in the event he died before they occurred. He never got excited for movies coming out, never got excited for new seasons of TV shows or the latest video games. He was never sure if he’d get to see them and lying on a death bed wishing he’d gotten to see the latest superhero movie seemed so upsetting, so he never hoped for anything. “That was nice of you, thinkin’ about me.”

Steve shrugged, offering a small smile. “I’m always nice to you.”

“Liar!” Bucky laughed. “You’re rude as fuck when we have cam sex.”

“We’re not having cam sex, Buck,” Steve whispered. He curled his spine, pressing kisses to Bucky’s knees through the sweats, curling his fingers around Bucky’s ankles. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

Bucky shivered, letting his legs fall open so Steve could scoot closer. “I want that.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s thighs, scooting closer to push his fingers up Bucky’s shirt and push the boy back to lie on the bed. He pinned Bucky down, kissing every inch of his face, flicking his tongue into Bucky’s mouth and then moving along his jawline.

Bucky was left in a dumb stupor. He reveled in the way Steve’s soft lips caressed his skin; the way Steve had wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s wrists and kept them up above his head. He loved how Steve nipped at any bit of exposed flesh he could find before soothing it with his tongue.

Bucky didn’t know what he was going to do about the future. Steve was an adult who probably wanted adult things like children and families. Bucky wasn’t sure he could ever offer that. But Bucky was sure about one thing: he’d love Steve Rogers till he died, or until Steve didn’t want him anymore. Either way was like death to Bucky. But he’d never leave this man unless he was sent away.

Steve rolled Bucky’s top up, slipping his fingers up to pinch at creamy-brown nipples atop flushed olive skin. He moved down, darting his tongue out to suck one of them.

Bucky gasped, arching up into Steve’s mouth, wrapping his fingers into Steve’s hair and pulling softly.

Steve moaned around the nipple from Bucky’s fingers, rolling his hips down into Bucky’s hardening cock.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed out. “No games okay?”

Steve pressed the lightest kiss against Bucky’s lips, leaving Bucky to wonder if he’d ever been kissed at all. “No games– just love, okay?”

Bucky nodded, biting at his lower lip. He relaxed into the bed, letting Steve continue his onslaught with his mouth, sucking red marks into the arch above Bucky’s abdomen. He went along Bucky’s bellybutton line, pressing loud, wet kisses as he trailed down to above Bucky’s waistband. “Take ‘em off?”

Steve nodded, pulling the sweats down to reveal a bobbing, red cock. He breathed out, almost like he was awestruck. Bucky would’ve been embarrassed if it’d been anyone other than Steve. “Do you want me to put you in my mouth?”

Bucky shook his head. “Open me up.”

“You sure?”

“I just want you close to me, Steve,” Bucky whined, pushing his ass into the mattress. “Please?”

Steve nodded, offering a tiny smile. “Do you care that my beard’s not grown in all the way?”

“No, now fucking lick me open you shit!” Bucky demanded, wrapping his legs over Steve’s shoulders to secure his head in place.

Steve laughed but he lowered his head out of Bucky’s view.

Bucky looked up, watching the ceiling fan spin lazily as he felt Steve pull his cheeks apart and kiss at his rim. His eyes fluttered as Steve’s lips brushed over his hole, pressing kiss after kiss but using no tongue.

Steve used one of his hands to run the pads of his fingers lazily against Bucky’s perineum.

“Ah…St-Steve…” Bucky gasped. “Tongue, _please_!”

Not even a second later was he gratified with Steve’s soft, hot tongue against his rim. It circled adventurously before pushing more firmly against him. He felt Steve licking at his opening, coating him with saliva and swiping that tongue all over Bucky’s ass, down his crack to his tailbone and back up to suck against his perineum.

“Steve!” Bucky gasped. “Fuck…oh fuck!”

Bucky rocked into Steve, wanting so badly to grab his dick and start pumping. He resisted, putting his hands above his head and stretching them out to grab at a pillow.

Steve’s tongue worked Bucky’s hole, the very tip of it entering inside before darting back out to swirl it once more. He still used two fingers to pad over Bucky’s perineum in tantalizingly slow movements.

Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to kick and thrust and growl till Steve pounded him into the mattress, leaving him wrecked, bruised and content. The idea of rough sex was thrilling to Bucky but this was beautiful too, Steve going so slow to make sure Bucky felt absolutely everything, proving how much he loved him in the most intimate of ways.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky gasped, smiling as Steve’s tongue finally slipped inside him with ease. He felt it hook inside, pumping in and out, making the softest wet sounds as it worked Bucky open, coating him with Steve’s saliva; marking Bucky as his.

And Bucky was Steve’s. Bucky was sure he’d never love someone else as much as he loved Steve, no matter how long he was on this earth. Steve was safety incarnate and Bucky never felt so _alive_ unless he was near Steve. Steve was the color in Bucky’s life, the taste in his mouth and the air in his lungs. He wouldn’t live without Steve. It just couldn’t happen.

Steve swirled his tongue along Bucky’s insides, pressing his face further into Bucky’s ass to let Bucky feel more, to let him relax open.

Bucky sighed in contentment, grabbing at the pillow above his head. He rocked his hips, feeling his dick vibrating, leaking softly as it reminded Bucky of its painful desire.

Steve sucked at Bucky’s hole, making loud, obnoxious sounds as he kept Bucky’s cheeks spread around his face. He palmed Bucky’s ass, squeezing the cheeks as his tongue sloppily worked in and out of the loosening hole before it. He hummed, letting the vibrations ring throughout Bucky’s body and right up into the top of his spine.

“Steve….Steve…more…more please…”

Steve slipped a finger inside of Bucky, his tongue still lapping along the outside as he twisted the appendage, swiveling it inside to work Bucky open more.

“Oh God!” Bucky breathed out. “Yes…yes baby…oh _God_ Steve, yes!”

Steve laughed, giving Bucky’s balls a teasing squeeze before he pressed his tongue inside, sidled it next to his pumping finger.

The sensation sent waves of heat through Bucky’s body, pushing a light mist of sweat against his chest and face. Steve’s finger was firm and his tongue soft and wet. The two together pushed pleasure into Bucky’s body in a way that left him moaning out long, pronounced vibratos. He curled his fingers into the pillow above him, pulling it down and pressing it over his face to scream into it.

Steve laughed loudly, slipping a second finger into Bucky’s body. “That good, huh?”

Bucky plopped the pillow back above him, keeping his fingers gripping it. “Yeah, so good.”

“You want me to keep doing it? It’s not too late to let me suck your pretty little dick into my mouth.”

“Don’t you dare! I wanna come with you.”

Steve rolled his eyes but he went back to Bucky’s ass, biting into the flesh of one of Bucky’s cheeks softly. He moved to trace around Bucky’s opening with the tip of his tongue; his beard tickling Bucky’s ass cheeks as he went.  

“Oh fuck, Steve,” Bucky breathed out, chest rising and falling as he panted. “Oh fuck…”

Steve spread his fingers inside Bucky as far as he could, giving them a swirl before slipping them in and out, like he was rocking his dick inside, brushing over Bucky’s prostate a few times.

Bucky’s body went rigid as pleasure beat against his spine, zinging up into the back of his skull and pulling tears from eyes. He pushed down on Steve’s fingers, greedily fucking himself against Steve’s strong fingers, biting his lip to keep from screaming again. He was hot, so hot and shivering but it was so hot? So why was he shivering?

Steve slipped a third finger in, licking at the base of Bucky’s perineum before nibbling on it lightly. He looked up watching Bucky’s slack jawed face to flash a beautiful, accomplished smirk. “You liking this still, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky breathed out. “M-more, please.”

Steve let his fingers flip further in, thrumming individually over Bucky’s prostate, making the boy howl out.

Bucky arched his back, gasping for air as sweat clung to him like morning dew. Steve’s fingers were magic, so long and perfect inside him. “Ah-ah-ah-ah!” Bucky whined as he bobbed himself over Steve’s fingers. “Fuck Steve…fuck I’m…fuck…”

Steve dipped down to slip in his pinky, scratching at the rim by accident, ripping a yelp from Bucky’s throat. “Are you okay?!” he asked, his fingers frozen inside of Bucky.

“Don’t. Stop,” Bucky growled.

Steve laughed but he thrust his fingers inside, reaching as far as he could to brush over Bucky’s prostate. He angled his thumb so it’d brush along the side of Bucky’s balls with each thrust.

“Ah! Fuck! Steve if you keep that up…Steve…I’m gonna…”

“It’s okay,” Steve cooed. “We can get you to come more than one.”

“I don’t wanna!” Bucky protested in a pitchy whine. “Wanna…wanna…oh fuck!” He rolled his head grabbing at the pillow and pulling it over his face again. His toes were stretched wide open, his limbs trembling and his shoulders still shivering like he was freezing, but he was so _hot_. He screamed into the pillow again, rocking his hips forcefully into Steve’s fingers, feeling his thumb brushing his sac, feeling those long fingers inside him, caressing his prostate like they were built for it. He shoved the pillow under his head, arching his back. “God! I wanna come with you! Fuck, Steve!”

Steve was laughing again. “I”ll get you to come again, baby, don’t worry! I like this.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky growled out but he kept rocking his hips down to push Steve’s fingers over his prostate. “Fuck…fuck I’m coming…St-e-eve!” he whined, pitchy and desperate as his orgasm bubbled over within him, surging through him like the lightning that painted the sky white just outside their window.

Cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down over his hips and into the mattress. He gasped for air, feeling his lungs fighting against him as they constricted against his will. He was still so cold, shivering yet sweating and hot. He rocked his hips a few more times into Steve’s hands, realizing that Steve had been letting him fuck himself over them since he started coming. Steve was only curling his fingers inside with each thrust to brush at Bucky’s prostate.

Bucky growled again, his limbs like noodles as he pouted up at Steve. “Want you to come with me.”

Steve crawled up the bed, lapping at the cum on Bucky’s stomach. “M’gonna,” he reassured. “Just gonna work you up again.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Steve answered, sounding positively smitten with himself. “Got you to come and you didn’t even touch yourself.”

“Proud?” Bucky laughed.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Steve responded through a smug smile. “Wanna get you to come twice like the first time we had cam sex though.”

Bucky laughed louder now, dropping his arm over his face. “You’re gonna be the reason I die.”

“No,” Steve began firmly. “I’m gonna be the reason you _live_.” He pulled Bucky’s arm from his face, nuzzling up to Bucky and pressing lazy kisses against his lips. “You’re gonna live to be so old, Bucky.” He ran his tongue along Bucky’s lips. “Gonna be shriveled and gray and I’ll be long dead cause you’ll live so long.”

Bucky felt tears slip from his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, too afraid that he’d break into a sob if he spoke any louder.

“I love you too.”

“I’m cold, Steve,” Bucky admitted. “But I feel really hot.”

Steve pressed the back of his hand to Bucky’s forehead, his brow crinkling the way Bucky loved. “You’re warm, but it could be from your orgasm. We’ll have to take your temperature later tonight. You should’ve called me, baby.”

“Thought you’d say no,” Bucky whispered, looking away from Steve. He felt Steve’s fingers curl around his dick, just holding it, letting his thumb brush up and down it. “That feels nice.”

“Call me the next time you wanna come over? Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said. “I’m sorry.”

Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s temple, brushing his nose into his hairline. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“We gonna have sex all night?”

Steve playfully bit at Bucky’s ear. “If you’ve got a temperature I don’t want you overexerting yourself.”

“Sex is good for colds though,” Bucky lilted. “Read it on the internet.”

“Of course you did,” Steve laughed, pressing another kiss to Bucky’s temple. He was stroking more of Bucky now, letting his palm circle over the tip to get the boy hard again. “And yes, sexual activity helps open nasal passages and sweating gets toxins outta the body but wearing yourself out lowers your ability to fight off infection and we worry about infections with your condition, so actually, too much sex isn’t good for you.”

Bucky sported a mock-pout on his face but the way Steve was stroking at his dick felt so good now that he couldn’t keep the soft moan at bay. He arched up into Steve’s hands, his eyelids going heavy. “Can you just do this for the rest of the night? After sex?”

Steve laughed, pushing his face into Bucky’s neck to press several kisses along his jugular. “For a little bit.”

“Please get inside me,” Bucky whined. “I need it. Wanna feel full.”

Steve slipped off the bed, walking over to his dresser to pull out a condom and some lube.

“We don’t need a condom,” Bucky said, sitting up. “We didn’t use one the last time.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve replied. “That was stupid of me and I won’t do it again. Even if you only have sex with me, I could still give you an infection. This is safer.”

“But you don’t have HIV right?”

Steve shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could rip your hole and my sweat could mixes in your bloodstream and you could get something from me. Just because I’m negative doesn’t mean anything for you.”

Bucky bit his lip, cursing his damn “condition” as Steve kept putting it. “It’s a disease, Steve. Just say it.”

“Bucky, don’t start right now please,” Steve responded lightly. “Let me make love to you the way I feel comfortable with?” He shed out of his clothes. Bucky couldn’t help but look at his red hard cock. Steve was so big, Bucky was glad he was nice and loose to take him all in. Fuck, that’d felt so good, feeling Steve’s fingers so deep inside him like that.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the memory. He smiled, watching Steve saunter back over.

“C’mere,” Steve instructed. He pulled Bucky by the underside of his knees to the corner of the bed. He wrapped Bucky’s legs around his torso, letting his dick brush against the crack of Bucky’s ass. One of his legs was folded on the bed while the other kept his weight on the floor.

Bucky rocked his hips, letting the tip of Steve’s cock slip up and down against his ass.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed. “You’re a tease.”

“You love me,” Bucky replied with a sleepy smile.

“I do,” Steve answered. He opened his rubber, slipping it over his dick before opening the bottle of lube to apply a generous amount around his length.

Bucky’s breathing hitched as he watched Steve stroke himself. He loved the way Steve sucked his lips in, pressing them into each other and letting them roll lazily out of his mouth, all nice and swollen. He loved watching those big hands work over his equally big cock. “God, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”

Steve rolled his eyes, lining himself up and circling his tip around the hole, slicking it up nice and shiny. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Wow, that line is _so old_ ,” Bucky giggled. “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, be nice to the guy who’s about to put his dick in you,” Steve protested with a smile.

Bucky circled his hips, slipping Steve’s tip all around his hole. “Oh Steve,” he gasped. “You’re gonna feel so good.”

Steve pushed his tip in slowly, his gaze flicking to Bucky’s for any indication that he should stop.

Bucky nodded, pushing himself down against Steve’s cock. “You’re good.”

Steve pressed himself slowly in, biting his lip.

Bucky reached up, running his hand over Steve’s skin along the goosebumps that appeared. “I make you feel good?”

“Immeasurably,” Steve replied.

“Am I tight?”

“You’re very vocal tonight,” Steve commented, rolling his hips lazily back and forth into Bucky.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky gasped. “M’just…curious,” Bucky replied, dropping his head back against the bed. He reached up, grabbing Steve’s arm.

“Yes, baby, you’re tight,” Steve humored. He pulled back, letting his tip rest on Bucky’s rim before slowly, _slowly_ pushing back inside.

“Oh my God, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “I can feel all of you.”

“You like me going this slow?”

“Now who’s the one asking all the questions? Hm?” Bucky teased.

“Shut up, I need to know how you like it,” Steve laughed, pinching one of Bucky’s nipples.

“Ow!” Bucky yelped. “Yes, yes I like it.”

“Then I’ll keep doing it.” He slipped his lips against Bucky’s, kissing him lazily as he continued to slowly pull his hips back before slipping his cock back inside Bucky.

Bucky moaned into the kiss, squeezing his fingers around Steve’s strong arms. He felt _everything_ , from the veins in Steve’s dick to the slight downward curl of his dick. “I’ve never felt so good, Steve,” he whined. “Why can’t you do this all night?”

Steve chuckled. “Because I’d go insane. Can’t come going this slow.”

“Wonder if I can,” Bucky mused.

“Dunno, but you wanna come with me, right?” He slipped out of Bucky’s hole before quickly pressing back in, making Bucky’s eyes flutter.

“Oh fuck. Y-yeah, wanna come with you.”

“Then we gotta speed up eventually,” Steve concluded.

Bucky nodded lazily, his eyes closed as he reveled in the sensation of feeling every little bit of Steve possible. His hole fluttered around Steve, enveloping him further, pulling him inside so that each lazy, slow thrust got further and further inside, till it was almost painfully pushing at the base of his spine.

He ran his fingers up and down Steve’s arms, opening his eyes to watch Steve’s torso move back and forth from him. “You’re so pretty,” he complimented.

“You’re cute,” Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s nose before catching his lips once more.

Steve rolled into Bucky, over and over till the boy’s cock was leaking a continuous stream that dribbled down his cock and pooled against the side of his navel. Bucky felt high, like he was floating on something other than a bed, that his bones were humming and his muscles slowly turning to liquid.

It got harder to keep running his fingers over Steve’s arms so he dropped them to the bed, splayed out in bliss and contentment, letting Steve’s dick bring him to the edge with heated pleasure.

Steve continued to press soft kisses to the corners of Bucky’s mouth, against his jaw, his eyes, anything and everything he could dip or crane his neck for.

Bucky curled his arms around Steve, humming softly when Steve would push against his prostate.

“Do you care if I pick you up?” Steve asked.

“What?” Bucky responded softly. He felt like Jell-O, like he’d just fall apart over Steve and slip to the floor if he moved.

“Switch up the position,” Steve detailed. “We don’t have to. I can just get deeper if I pick you up.”

“Pick me up,” Bucky responded instantly. “Want you so close to me.”

Steve hummed approvingly, wrapping his arms under Bucky’s arms and hooking his hands behind his back. He picked Bucky up effortlessly. Bucky felt like he was slowly becoming nothing around Steve’s dick, so it made complete sense he’d be so light.

“Oh God!” Bucky gasped as he felt himself being lowered even further down Steve’s dick, getting the angle just right so he really did slip deeper into him. “Oh fuck, Steve that’s good.” He hooked his ankles together behind Steve’s back, clinging his fingers into Steve’s back. “Wanna…wanna bounce up and down on you.”

“Go for it, I’ll help you.” Steve nipped at Bucky’s nose before kissing his lips.

Bucky started rocking, feeling Steve lifting under his arms and letting him fall down his dick. “Oh fuck this is good, Steve, so, so, _so_ good.”

“Ah yeah,” Steve panted. “You’re so pretty, Bucky.”

Bucky bounced easily now with the aid of Steve’s arms. He could feel Steve’s dick pushing up inside him, hitting the walls of his muscles and pushing roughly against his prostate. He dropped his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Nnnnn, fuck!” he whined.

“Ah…ah…ah…” Steve panted with each thrust. “Bucky…Bucky…wanna go faster.”

Bucky nodded into Steve’s neck, moving to bite into his collarbone as Steve started to snap his hips up into Bucky. “Oh God! _Fuck_!”

“That okay, baby?” Steve asked, husky and so fucking sexy Bucky thought he was going to pass out.

“Y-y-yeah,” Bucky whined into the rhythm of Steve’s thrusts. He pushed his hips down against Steve, greedily pulling in everything, fucking himself over Steve’s cock and letting that familiar warming sensation swirl in the pit of his stomach. “Fuck, Steve! So good…feels…so…good!”

Steve moved to sit on the bed, dropping his head forward and groaning as he used the mattress to help spring him into Bucky’s ass.

Bucky yelled out a moan, arching his back so extravagantly that Steve had to move his arms to the middle of his back to keep him balanced there.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped. “God damn you look so….so fucking flawless.”

Bucky laughed, swirling his hips down on Steve’s cock, listening to the slick as Steve’s dick pumped within him. He rolled his body, biting his lip as he smiled; listening to Steve’s moans as he finally found how Steve really liked it.

Steve seemed to like aggressive, pushing thrusts that took him in deep and swirled him inside and that’s exactly what Bucky did. He swiveled his hips rocking his body into Steve; pulling up, and grabbing behind Steve’s shoulder blades.

“Oh, _God_ , Bucky!” Steve hissed. “Fuck just like that, oh _fuck_ , baby just like that.”

Bucky smiled, pleased that he’d almost gotten a whine out of Steve’s needy tone. With a renewed vigor, Bucky continued to slam himself down over Steve, letting his cock bob freely, sometimes slipping up the curves of Steve’s abs.

Steve latched his mouth against Bucky’s, groaning into the kiss as he gripped Bucky’s hips tighter, snapping his hips harder into Bucky.

They rocked into each other, blissed out and in such a frenzy that Bucky completely forgot about the storm outside. Nothing else existed but the curve of Steve’s beautiful cock, the desperate panting of his breath and the way he held onto Bucky’s hips so tight it was like he’d die without them. That’s all Bucky knew and that’s all he’d ever want to know again.

“Steve,” Bucky whined, wrapping his hands around the back of Steve’s neck. “I love you.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s swollen lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Steve picked Bucky up again, flipping them over so Steve was back in the first position again, one leg on the floor and the other balanced on the bed.

Bucky secured his ankles together behind Steve’s back, squeezing Steve into his ass, letting this man know how much his body had to offer.

Steve moaned loudly, dropping his head beside Bucky’s as he rocked into Bucky’s hole, filling him up so nice. “Fuck, God, I love you.”

Bucky turned his head, pressing kisses all up and down the side of Steve’s face. He couldn’t last much longer. He was shivering again as sweat clung thickly against him and the heat that coiled in his stomach was starting to burn. “Steve,” he whimpered. “Wanna come.”

Steve spit into his hand before grabbing Bucky’s dick. He rocked into Bucky, angling himself in a way Bucky supposed he liked best. He pumped at Bucky’s cock, letting his fingers all slip over the precome that’d built up, getting him slick with himself.

“ _God_ , Bucky you feel so good. So hot and tight,” he growled. “Gonna come soon too, baby.”

Bucky nodded, arching into Steve’s touch, letting the sensation of warm wax burn against his loins. He rolled his head back, moaning loudly, not caring about anyone who could possibly hear him.

Steve thrust up inside Bucky, slamming his tip against Bucky’s prostate relentlessly. He grunted with each thrust, his body red and blushing from exertion.

Bucky wanted to trace the blush along his cheeks, chest and shoulders but he felt like a wet noodle, writhing beneath him. His throat was starting to burn from how loud he was moaning, but he refused to stop. Steve felt so hot and good inside him, filling him up,  completing him; his hand fucking over his dick in the rhythm of his thrusts. Bucky didn’t know how much more he could take before he lost it completely.

He squeezed around Steve’s dick, pulling him in deeper, rolling his hips up to meet Steve loudly.

“Oh, _God_! So fucking good, Buck! Fuck…ah…fuck…” Steve panted in response, rocking harder into Bucky, pushing tears out of his eyes.

Bucky whimpered trying to keep his orgasm down but it was too much. His body was tingling, spine humming and he felt so hot and freezing at the same time. His dick was protesting against his mind, rock hard and ready to spill everything as Steve’s thumb kept brushing against the tip.

“Ste-eve,” Bucky whined. “Gonna come…gonna come n-now…”

Steve pumped harder into Bucky, his back arching as he moaned out almost as loud as Bucky. “S’okay, Buck…comin’…I’m coming too,”

Bucky couldn’t stop himself anymore, Steve’s body was flushing redder and the way he was moving with ravenous abandon was _intoxicating_. Bucky’s balls pinched up into him, pushing out his seed in an arching spray across his stomach and chest. He cried out, a string of slurred, _I love you’s_ , as his orgasm rolled through him. He felt tears spilling from the sides of his eyes, dropping down to the mattress as Steve continued to rock into him, pushing his tip against Bucky’s prostate.

“St-Steve, Steve, Steve,” Bucky chanted, squirming in a desperate attempt to get Steve to stop. It was too much. Too much. His nerves were aflame and dizzy, his mind clouded and his stomach felt like it was coiling in on itself but it just felt so damn good.

He pushed back against Steve, feeling heat welling up in him again as Steve spit down on Bucky’s dick and fucked his fist over him.

“Steve!” Bucky cried out. “God! You’re gonna…I’m gonna!”

Bucky hated coming again, but at the same time really, _really_ liked it. It was always dry and never as good as the first one, but it left him feeling obliterated and so exhausted and he _loved_ that feeling. Plus, Steve had said he’d been determined to get Bucky to come twice, and now he had. Bucky cried out, arching his back off the bed and moaning into Steve’s awaiting mouth.

Their tongues clashed sloppily together, slipping clumsily around each other. Steve slowed his pace till he was doing what he’d started; long pronounced thrusts that Bucky could feel all of.

Bucky whimpered into Steve’s mouth, feeling like he was melting into the mattress; like he was ceasing to be human. He shakily wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling himself up into the man’s embrace.

Steve dropped them down so they were lying side-by-side, still inside Bucky. He pressed kisses over Bucky’s wet lashes, brushing his nose against him. “That good, baby?”

“You did all that on purpose,” Bucky breathed out. “Yes, yes it was good.”

Steve laughed, rolling his hips lazily into Bucky.

“Ah fuck! S-stop, Steve!” Bucky pleaded. “S’too much. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve obliged. “You’ve got the prettiest little ass.”

“You’re such a charmer,” Bucky responded sarcastically, he pulled back, dropping his leg from around Steve and rolling off the bed. “Need to clean myself up.” But when he stood up, he went crashing to the floor, his knees competently giving way.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted as he ran around the bed to his lover. “Are you okay?! Did you get up too fast?”

“M’just tired, Steve,” Bucky assured. “You fucked me good.”

Steve’s brow creased heavily as he pressed the backs of his hands to Bucky’s cheeks and forehead. “We gotta get you to cool down.”

“It’s just the sex, Steve!” Bucky protested. “M’fine.”

“…I don’t know. I’d rather be safe than sorry.” He stood up, slipping the condom off his dick and dropping it into the waste can. “Let’s take a shower together.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. “Can you hold me? I don’t think I can stand.”

Steve picked Bucky up under his arms, letting the boy hook his feet around him.

Bucky dropped his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, feeling Steve bend slightly to start the water in the master bathroom.

Steve set Bucky down on the toilet, pressing his hand to his forehead again.

“You just did that!” Bucky cried.

“I’m just…Bucky you were out in the rain.”

“So? S’just rain.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah and dirt and microscopic assortments of bacteria.”

“I hate doctors,” Bucky sulked. “They know too much.”

“You love me,” Steve cooed, placing a kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you into the tub.”

“Pick me up,” Bucky requested. “Still don’t think I can walk.”

Steve picked him up, stepping into the tub to let the shower stream hit them both. It was a bit cramped, but Bucky didn’t mind; he had an excuse to stay close to Steve. His limbs were trembling and the water felt very cold against his skin.

“Too cold.”

Steve turned them so Bucky was getting the runoff from Steve’s body. “It’s lukewarm, baby. You’ll get used to it when your body cools down.”

They stayed under the shower stream, Steve cupping water, bringing it over Bucky’s forehead and face. He ran a washcloth over Bucky’s body in slow gentle ministrations to wash away the sweat and cum; further cooling him down.

“Starting to feel better?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, think I just came too hard.”

Steve laughed, turning to grab the shampoo and massage it into Bucky’s hair.

“Mmm, that’s lovely.”

“You’re like a cat,” Steve teased.

“I like when you’re touching me!” Bucky defended through a smile. He looked up, watching Steve’s face as he worked the suds into Bucky’s hair. He had tiny crinkle lines around his eyes from all his years of smiling, barely noticeable but when they stood this close Bucky could see them. His lips were always red and Bucky liked watching the water droplets catch in his beard, glistening like diamonds. “I love you.”

Steve looked down, smiling sadly. He turned them around so Bucky got the stream again.

“Still cold.”

“You’re still hot,” Steve noted.

Bucky was silent for a long time, letting Steve continue to run the washcloth over his back and shoulders. He chewed his bottom lip, staring down at the drain. He was standing more firmly now; he felt less like a noodle and more like a person. He was pissed at himself. He should’ve called Steve about tonight. Should’ve asked permission to come over. It was foolish and completely selfish, but Bucky did it.He could’ve gotten himself sick. Catching a cold for him was like an elderly person getting pneumonia. God, if he was sick…

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked, wrapping his arms around Bucky.

Bucky leaned back, letting Steve brace most of his weight. This is where he wanted to be– in the arms of his protector, his doctor, his love. “I can stand.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed. “You’re leaning into me.”

“I did that on purpose,” Bucky pouted. “You’re my favorite thing to lean on.”

Steve snorted. He reached around Bucky to turn the shower off. “Tired yet?”

“Yeah.”

“K. Let’s get you dried off, and then I’m going to take your temperature.”

Bucky groaned. “I’m not sick, Steve.” He couldn’t be. Sick meant he could die and he wasn’t ready. There was still so much he needed to do with Steve. He still had pages of his bucket list to do!

Steve handed Bucky a towel, shrugging a single shoulder. “I need to be sure, baby. If you’re sick, it’s best we catch it early on. Get you loaded up on vitamin c and antibiotics.”

Bucky clutched the towel around his body, shivering from the chill in the air. At least he didn’t feel so hot anymore. He followed Steve back into the bedroom and slipped back into the clothes he’d been wearing before they’d made love.

Made love.

Bucky had a lover. A person who thought of him and wanted to only care for him, someone who’d kiss his face and tell him he’s pretty. Christ, it felt so good to be loved.

He slipped into the bed, sprawling out as a flash of lightning lit the sky. “I hate storms.”

“I know,” Steve responded, pulling up a pair of silver basketball shorts. “But it’s okay. I happen to be an expert at keeping storms at bay.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, his gaze following Steve across the room, watching him close the curtains.

“Yup. No lightning ever strikes my house, and if you snuggle in real close, you won’t even hear the thunder.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ve got ears, Steve. Whaddya do? Soundproof the room?”

Steve hopped into bed, reaching to tickle Bucky’s ribs.

Bucky shouted out in glee, squirming from Steve’s fingers as they wiggled up his sides. “St-Steve! Oh God, stop! Stop!”

Steve pulled back, scooting under the covers. “Did you hear the thunder?”

Bucky was still laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. “No?”

“See, told you.”

Bucky scooted closer to Steve, lying his head against the man’s chest, listening to his heart beating. If he could fall asleep right here like this for the rest of his life, he’d gladly die knowing he’d been shrouded in the most loving arms he’d ever been in.

Still…

He had a bucket list, and he wanted to finish it.

* * *

 

Steve dropped his head against the nurses’ station counter. He yawned loudly into his arms. His back was sore and he was pretty sure Bucky had left a few too many hickeys around his hips. Since Steve told Bucky it was okay to call him at night to come over a week ago, Bucky was seriously abusing it. Every night he’d find a reason that he needed to come over and every night, Steve would give in and they’d do something off the boy’s bucket list. Most of it included sex and Steve liked sex…but now his back hurt and his hips and thighs were covered in hickeys that ached when he tried to move quickly. He was also seriously losing sleep.

Sometimes Bucky would be perfectly okay after they’d make love. Sometimes he was giggling and affectionate and other times he’d start to cry and lament about all the years he wouldn’t get to spend with Steve. And Steve, he didn’t know what to do in those situations. He just held Bucky, whispering that everything would be okay and they’d beat this disease somehow when in fact Steve didn’t know the firsts thing about curing incurable diseases.

It didn’t help that Bucky did eventually get sick. But it wasn’t the rain that did him in; the cut on his arm became infected. Steve wasn’t entirely sure if it was because Bucky kept forgetting to change the bandages, or if sex made Bucky sweat too much and…he’d forget to change the bandages.

_‘It had to be the damn bandages…’_

“Rough night at the office?” Sharon asked, placing a coffee in front of Steve.

“You’re a goddess,” Steve exclaimed, snatching the coffee and gulping it down. “Ouch!”

“It’s hot!” Sharon laughed. “You’re a mess. And when’s the last time you shaved that beard?” She reached up, ruffling her fingers through Steve’s beard teasingly.

“Hey!” Steve laughed. He smoothed down the strands of his beard, happy that he finally had a full beard once more. “I grew it out on purpose.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you’re not just getting lazy?” She flicked her pen at him.

“You’re in an awfully good mood. What’s up?”

Sharon turned to Steve, sucking in her lips and bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet. “Sam finally asked me out!”

Steve set his coffee down, his mouth dropping open in astonishment. “What! That’s awesome!”

“Oh my _God_! It took him _forever_! I mean, I almost had to show him my boobs to get the point across!”

Steve snorted, rolling his eyes. He loved talking to Sharon. She was easy to get along with. It was just those small instances when he felt she knew something more than she’d let him know, usually always concerning Bucky. “Well I’m happy for you. When’s the date?”

“Tonight! After my shift. We’re going bowling.”

Steve flicked his brow up once. “Sounds thrilling.”

Sharon playfully hit his shoulder. “Oh shut up. When’s the last time you went on a date anyway?”

_‘Does it count as a date if I get laid? Cause then last night.’_

“Uh…” Steve stammered, rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re one of the most attractive guys I know. How’re you not beating guys off with a stick?”

_‘Because I’m seeing a seventeen-year-old.’_

“Too busy,” Steve replied shortly. “Don’t have time when you’re saving lives.”

Sharon rolled her eyes, walking around the nurses’ station to grab a chart. “Speaking of lives…” She dropped a chart in front of Steve. He winced when he saw the name.

“How is he?”

“Stable. Feels like shit, but when you have sepsis.”

Blood infection. Steve wanted to slam his face into the counter again. This was his fault. He should’ve paid more attention to the bandages. “Should I go see him?”

“You’re his doctor. We’ve got him on antibiotics and an oxygen tank but you’ll need to make a bigger call for treatment.” She scribbled something on the chart before looking up with sad, round eyes. “He keeps asking where you are.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. “I’m his doctor. Shouldn’t he be curious?”

“You know, I just say that cause I get a reaction out of you. Which…come here,” she said, pulling his wrist.

Steve’s heart froze over. Tiny shards of ice pumped through his blood, chilling it till it grew thick and chunky. His feet wobbled beneath him as Sharon led him into one of the physician's break rooms.

“P-people’re gonna talk if we keep going in here like this,” Steve said, trying to deflect the situation he knew was happening. This was it. Sharon knew. She had to. She’d been testing him this entire time. She’d been purposely pushing his buttons and gathering intel slowly till she was absolutely sure of her conclusion.

Steve was losing his job. Oh God, would he lose Bucky too? Would he go to jail? He’d rip his own heart out if he couldn’t see Bucky anymore. Panic surged through him, searing into his nerves and making him shake. What about prison? They killed pedophiles in prison. Even murderers and rapists had moral codes and pedophiles were the lowest of the ranks, scrum that stuck to toilet bowls and corners long forgotten.

“Steve,” Sharon said, bringing him out of his frightened thoughts. “You like Bucky.”

“W-what?” he asked, his tone an octave higher than normal.

Sharon sighed heavily, locking the door behind her as she leaned on it. “I’m not an idiot, Steve. He’s the only patient you ever do blood work for, he’s the only patient you stay hours later with and he’s the only patient that you’ve let _into your home_.”

Steve stumbled back onto the cot, hitting the back of his head on the top bunk. He winced, rubbing at his head to sooth it as his heart practically burst from his chest. His lungs squeezed in on themselves. Gasping, Steve cupped at his throat, hiccuping for air.

“Steve!” Sharon yelled, running over to kneel in front of him. “Do you have asthma?!”

He nodded, still gasping for air, clutching the cot till his knuckles went white.

“You fucker! Where’s your inhaler?!” she yelled, her brows pulled tightly together and mouth open like she’d been running a marathon. “Steve!”

He fished out his inhaler from his pocket, putting the medication to his lips and puffing a few times.

Sharon sat back on her haunches, pinching her brow. “You…damn it, Steve.”

Steve continued to hiccup till his lungs started to cooperate with him. Air sank into him, filling his body and pulling color back into his cheeks. He moved to lie on the cot, staring up at the one above it. “How’d you know he came to my house?” he rasped.

“I live on 4th Street. Didn’t know you lived in Carroll Gardens. I was on a night run. Saw you and him on your stoop.”

Steve swallowed, still staring at the bunk above him. “Gonna report it?”

“I don’t even know what it is I’d be reporting, Steve,” Sharon huffed. “I saw a patient at a doctor’s door.”

Steve wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. She wasn’t reacting like he thought someone in medicine would. She was level-headed and seemed more concerned about Steve’s health than his story with Bucky. Perhaps she just felt guilty for making his lungs clamp up. He opened his mouth, preparing to speak when no words wanted to come out.

This was happening. He was confessing his relationship to someone who wasn’t Peter; a trusted friend. Sharon was probably by definition, a friend. They joked together, went out to the bars at night with the other doctors (though Steve wasn’t going as much as he used to), and even gossiped together. They were probably friends and not just co-workers.

Steve felt like the world was spinning too fast. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing through his nose.

“How long?” Sharon asked.

“Officially? Couple months.”

“And unofficially?”

“Since he came in needing the pericardial effusion.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Sharon sighed out. “He’s in love with you.”

Steve smiled faintly. “I know.”

“He’s a child.”

Steve’s smile spread wider. This is what he’d prepared for right? All that statutory research for the day this all spilled out like a stomach wound. It was here. Sharon knew. Of course she would be the first one to find out. She was the smartest person Steve knew on his floor. “He’s above the age of consent.”

“Do his parents know?”

“No.”

Sharon swayed on her haunches to drop to the floor. She rested her elbows on her knees. “Do you love him?”

Steve felt like he had bees in his chest. Pressure grew in ferocity at his sternum till he couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes filled with tears as he officially plummeted himself out in the open. There was no going back now. He’d lose his job over this, but he couldn’t stop himself. The truth was like a barrel cascading down a hill toward a line of trees. The only thing stopping it was the confession and Steve _had_ to confess. “Yes.” He felt a tear slip from his eye, rolling down the shell of his ear and onto the pillow beneath his head.

Sharon didn’t say anything. She looked to her fingers, playing with her nails as her lips twitched and pursed. She pulled her knees to her chest, huffing. “They’ll fire you. But you knew that.”

Steve clenched his jaw. His limbs felt numb. He couldn’t decide if his spine was evaporating from his body or gravity was pulling it into the ground.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t say anything, Steve,” Sharon ordered. “Because I _damn_ well need one.”

Another tear slipped from Steve’s eye. His lips twitched as he fought off the desire to laugh at the situation. He felt cracked open, brittle and yet oozing. One reason. She didn’t _want_ to report him. She didn’t want to report him because they were friends. “I can’t ask you to not do your job.”

Sharon slammed her hand onto the carpeted floor. “Damn it, Steve!” she barked. “Give me a reason! You’re too good a doctor! I can’t–” Her voice cut off. She gasped for air, scrunching up her nose. “I refuse to let some other doctor fill your shoes. No doctor has the same passion you do. You don’t see children with sniveling noses or puffy eyes. You see people. Hell, it all makes sense why you’d fall in love with one of them! They’re people and you _respect_ them! Do you know how rare that is?”

Steve closed his eyes. “Never really paid attention.”

“Give me a reason, Steve. Anything that I can walk away from this not feeling like a coward.”

“You’re the coward?” Steve laughed. “I’m the one sneaking a seventeen-year-old boy into my house.”

“Steve!” Sharon groaned. “Please.”

“Because he doesn’t wanna feel like he’s dying, Sharon. When he’s with me,” Steve paused, sighing. “He’s not afraid. He slips but, Christ, this is so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Sharon detailed. “You give him hope.”

Steve huffed out a cynical laugh. “As much as a boy obsessed with his own death can hope for, yeah.”

Sharon clicked her tongue, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Maybe it’s a good relationship. A boy with an immune deficiency dating a doctor.”

Steve finally tore his gaze from the cot above him. “Really? Not gonna lecture me on stealing this kid’s life or ruining him?”

Sharon shrugged. “Honestly, if it was Romanov or Barton, I’d be more pissed. But this is Bucky. He’s already been robbed of his life.”

Steve slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, staring at his shoes.

“But then that leaves you,” Sharon continued softly. “What about when he does die, Steve? Where does that leave you?”

It was like someone took a blunted dagger and shoved it into Steve’s ribcage. He grabbed his gut, clenching his teeth as a groan reverberated in his throat. “I don’t… I don’t think about it.”

“Steve,” Sharon started. “Realistically speaking, Bucky’s probably not going to even make it to his thirtieth birthday.”

“But if I break up with him, I destroy him,” Steve illustrated, eyes sharp as they glared at Sharon. “I won’t do that.”

Sharon chewed her lips, pulling her hair to the side to run her fingers through it. “So you’ll live your life all alone just to be with that kid for a few years?”

Steve’s heart felt like it was being pressed by hundreds of rocks. Tears spilled from his eyes, falling freely, silently down his cheeks. “What am I supposed to do?”

Sharon closed her eyes, mashing her lips together. “I don’t know, Steve. I’ve never been in a relationship with a terminally ill person.”

He shoved his face into his hands, sobbing softly. Speaking about this, actually hearing it from another _adult_. She was absolutely right. Bucky could die in three years or ten. Steve would mourn his death and feel the need to punish himself for the rest of his life. Everything he’d do from that moment on would be a constant, brittle reminder that Bucky had been _terrified_ to die. He’d see that stupid movie theater and think of the day Bucky lamented about forgetting Steve. He’d walk into the hospital and remember the last words Bucky ever uttered, the last kiss he’d given. Steve pressed his lips together, holding back the sob that wanted to rip through his body. Hot tears fell in thick chunks down his face as he pushed a palm over his eyes.

Sharon moved to sit on the bed. She wrapped her arm around Steve’s shoulders, cooing softly.

Steve openly sobbed now. He leaned into Sharon, wetting her shoulder with his tears as he allowed himself to face the harsh reality of his relationship. He always went to such lengths to keep Bucky safe and healthy but even now, Bucky was in the hospital, waiting for Steve to come and order him some kind of treatment to combat his blood infection. An infection that could very well kill him, because _anything_ could kill Bucky if it went untreated for too long.

Bucky was as fragile as a rose made of glass. Beautiful and shimmering when sat on a shelf but if moved around and held close, it was bound to snap. Steve didn’t know where that left him. He knew this relationship would end one day but he never _truly_ faced the reality of it all. Bucky _would_ die. He’d slip from the world long before Steve ever did and where would that leave Steve?

His mother was dead.

His boyfriend was going to die.

Everyone would slowly slip away and where would that leave Steve? Alone. He’d be alone. He’d never be able to forgive himself for finding someone to replace Bucky. It wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t like a breakup where people got over each other and went separate ways. Bucky would have no _choice_ but to leave Steve. How could Steve find someone else when the one who he’d been with had never wanted to leave him?

“Oh f-fuck, Sharon!” Steve cried out. “I can’t do this!”

Sharon squeezed his shoulders tighter as he cried. She ran her fingers up and down his back, silent.

Steve never wanted to see the day where Bucky had no choice but to die. He never wanted to see the tears that’d slip from his lover’s eyes as he lamented about all the things they didn’t get to do from his bucket list. He couldn’t do it! He’d be ripped to shreds, violently splayed and thrashed into the wind as he’d watch the life leave Bucky’s eyes. How did people do it? How did they watch their loved ones die and still find it in themselves to keep moving on?

He’s sobs had fallen to soft hiccups. He brushed his eyes against Sharon’s shoulder, wiping the tears against her scrubs. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sharon said. “You’ve been in this relationship with no one to talk to about Bucky’s condition. You sure as hell can’t talk to him about it. Steve–” She grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers in hers. “I will _always_ be there when you need to break down and cry.”

“I dreaded the day someone found out,” Steve commenced. “I saw fire and pitchforks.”

“So, as I said…if it was any other patient except maybe Parker, I’d have been pissed. But this boy doesn’t get to live like normal kids. He’s isolated and alone. He’s suffering and that’s not fair. If dating you brings him happiness then who am I to judge that?”

“Have I told you that you’re my favorite?” Steve laughed, kissing Sharon’s temple. He’d never done that before. He would have never done that, honestly, but something about this situation seemed to warrant an intimacy with her that he’d never imagined. She knew him inside and out. She’d guessed for a long time there was something between him and Bucky and now here she was, supporting it and allowing Steve to come to her when he had nowhere else to go. Perhaps Sharon was more than a friend– perhaps a _best_ friend.

Sharon nudged her shoulder into Steve’s arm. “You do about once a day, but you can bump up the compliments to at least five or six now.”

“Five or six! Woah there, killer!” Steve exclaimed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he let himself smile, full and unabashed.

Sharon stood up, going over to the small mirror in the room and looking at her scrubs. “Good thing I work in peds right? Can just say a kid cried on me.”

Steve stood up, awkwardly shifting on his big feet. “Sorry.”

“No,” Sharon whispered, moving to cup Steve’s face. “You need someone. Yeah, Bucky’s the one with the illness but you’re the one that’s going to be left here when he’s gone. You’ve got your own baggage now. Besides,” she flicked his nose. “It’s kind of cute to see a guy as big as you cry as hard as you can.”

“You’re a jerk,” Steve laughed. “I gotta go check on him.”

Sharon nodded, following him from the room.

Sharon Carter knew about Steve and Bucky. She knew and she _understood_. Steve wasn’t sure why he still felt like his heart was someone’s personal pincushion. His body ached with each step closer to Bucky’s door, his toes going cold. Sharon _knew_ and she was _okay_ with it. His eyes stung and watered before he could blink the tears away, and with each step he took, his throat was thick and no matter how many times he swallowed he couldn’t get the feeling of rocks at the back of his throat to go away.

Bucky was back in the hospital, surrounded by germs and death. It was everything Steve didn’t want for him and yet here he was. It was so much more real now. Steve was dating a boy with a disease that would claim his life one day. Steve was dating a boy whose worst fear was dying before he got to do anything with his life. Steve was dating a boy…and his colleague knew about it.

He opened the door, brushing a tear away before Bucky could see it.

Bucky was playing a video game in his and Peter’s room. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with an IV pouch hovering above him and little oxygen tubes in his nose, wrapped safe around his head.

Steve looked over to Peter. His eyes were open to half-slits. He offered the smallest smile and a finger twitch in greeting. Steve felt tears well again.

_‘Stop it. Stop. It. You’re their fucking doctor! Stop it!’_

But he couldn’t. Seeing Peter like this, watching him slip away, too weak to even speak. Bucky would be like that one day. And what would Steve really do then? He could put off the idea every day but that day would come. Steve had no other option. It was either stay with Bucky, knowing full well the end to their story or break up with him and know that he was the reason Bucky died before his heart stopped beating.

He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

“How’re my two favorite patients?” Steve asked as he walked into the room, offering a strained smile with his tired eyes.

Bucky didn’t look up from his game. “I’m beating this shithead. I hate this level.”

Steve walked over to Bucky, ruffling his hair before going to sit by Peter. He checked over Peter’s monitors, evaluating his IV bag before sitting next to him. “Hey Pete.”

Peter was looking at him but his only response was the soft sparkle in his eyes.

“Blink twice if you feel like complete and utter shit,” Steve instructed.

Peter blinked two, slow blinks.

Steve sighed, sitting back and looking over at Bucky. _‘He only plays video games when he’s sad.’_

“Hey Bucky,” Steve called. “Why don’t you come here with us?”

Bucky paused his game, slipping from his bed to walk over with his IV bag and oxygen tank.

Steve winced, realizing his lover was tubed up and that probably was a stupid thing to make him do but Peter was in worse shape. “How’re you, baby?”

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “I feel fine. ‘Cept for this,” he said as he exposed his bandaged arm to Steve. “It’s all gross.”

Steve laughed. “C’mere.”

Bucky folded into Steve’s lap, pressing his head to Steve’s clavicle.

“You both need to hear this and it’s really important,” Steve began. “But I’m only saying it once. Okay?”

Bucky nodded against his chest.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, listening to his oxygen tank hiss with each breath he took.

“You _both_ are gonna leave this hospital. Okay? You _both_ are gonna get better.” Steve didn’t know what he was doing. Bucky had a high chance of fighting off the infection since it was caught so early but Peter… Peter was a guessing game. But he couldn’t stomach this. Steve couldn’t physically withstand watching these boys slip from life before they even had a chance to be men or make a difference. Peter had so much potential– so much intelligence. And Bucky, Bucky was a spitfire with so much passion. He could conquer the world if he wanted to.

Peter huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes.

Steve’s heart tore itself in half.

“I mean it, Peter,” Steve affirmed, his brow creasing. “You will get better. I swear I’ll find a way. But you have to fight this. You both have to fight, _every_ day.”

In med school, they teach you to never promise your patients anything. They teach you to wobble around the truth and avoid “yes” or “no” questions when dealing with death. Steve was breaking several ethical codes sitting here, making promises he damn well knew he couldn’t keep. Peter would most likely die soon. Bucky would most likely die before reaching thirty but Steve–

He couldn’t _withstand_ it. He was a rock that had been beaten by the ocean waves for far too long.

He had to lie to them to lie to himself. It was the only way to keep from breaking down in front of them. Steve couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let Bucky know how much it hurt to know he’d watch him die one day. He couldn’t let Bucky know that Steve didn’t believe the words he was always spouting.

Bucky would die.

So would Peter.

But he had to give them hope. He had to give _himself_ hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's POV with the realization of Bucky dying does NOT MEAN Bucky is dying any time soon. Rest assured, Bucky will absolutely NOT die within the confines of this story and I never intend on writing it. If you want to know what I personally think happens, message me on tumblr and we can talk privately, but YOU as THE READER can also come up with your own conclusions to how their lives will play out. 
> 
> Add me on [Tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)  
> NOW ONTO PORN! Here are the gifs that inspired the sex scene :)  
> 


	7. Subspace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took FOREVER! I had a rough semester, but I'm in a better semester so yay more time!

 

Steve lay on the bed, watching Bucky from the open doorway to the hall. Bucky was in the bathroom blow drying his hair. Sepsis free and with a sparkling bill of clean health, Bucky’s first request to celebrate was to come over and stay the night. It resulted in a night full of Disney movies where Steve cried more than he’d care to admit and a night in bed full of kisses and whispers of love. Steve wasn’t feeling much up for sex. It wasn’t that his drive was gone, but he was just so focused on Bucky’s health that he couldn’t exactly get into the mood. It hadn’t bothered Bucky. He seemed content to just laugh into Steve’s kisses, teasing Steve about how his beard tickled at Bucky’s face. It was a good night.

Now, as Steve watched Bucky in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, they were onto day two of their celebration. Steve had an off day and Bucky somehow convinced his parents he was _still_ at the hospital to stay with Peter.

Peter wasn’t getting better. He wasn’t getting any worse, but he wasn’t getting any better. It frustrated Steve to no end. There were only so many rounds of chemo they could do, and only so many fluids to pump his body with before the treatment could start to seriously injure him. Peter could barely keep any solid food down, even the smoothies Steve was bringing him weren’t settling well in his stomach.

Steve sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. For all his medical knowledge as a general pediatric physician and he couldn’t figure out how to fix Peter. Not even with the help of Peter’s oncologist. They were just there to make him comfortable at this point and it was _disgusting_. Steve didn’t want to stop fighting. He didn’t want to give up on Peter. It wasn’t fair! Peter was young and so very intelligent. He was so optimistic and he was a _God damned fighter_. Yet none of that mattered it seemed, not when the universe deemed it your time.

“Hey,” Bucky said as he snaked up the bed and into Steve’s arms. He rested his head on Steve’s chest, looking up at Steve with those big doe eyes. Steve loved Bucky’s eyes. They held every emotion, good or bad, that Bucky had _ever_ experienced.

“You ready?” Steve asked. He was still naked and definitely not ready. Bucky had been the more productive of the two, taking a shower, blow drying his hair and fussing with his clothes. Steve ended up letting Bucky steal one of his drawers to stash some of his clothes. It was easier than making Bucky live out of a backpack when he was here.

“Yup,” Bucky lilted, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s neck. “Do I smell good?”

Steve inhaled against Bucky’s head, smelling the shampoo. He laughed, kissing the top of Bucky’s head. “Like an angel.”

Bucky snorted, baring his throat. “I’m wearing your cologne.”

Steve brushed his nose along the curve of Bucky’s neck, shivering from the intimate contact. He did smell like Steve’s cologne. Slightly sweet but a little musky.

“Mmm,” Steve purred. “I could eat you up.”

Bucky giggled, pressing several kisses to Steve’s lips. “Please do.” He rolled from the bed and then started to lace up his boots. “We goin’ or what?”

Steve finally sat up, groaning as he slipped from the bed over to the dresser. Bucky smacked his ass playfully, earning a yelp out of Steve. He rolled his eyes before slipping on some briefs and then a pair of jeans.

Steve was taking Bucky to a floral nursery today. After a few snide comments from Bucky about the state of Steve’s garden, they’d agreed to make an event out of it. Bucky could even cross off ‘making out in public’ off his bucket list. They’d been in public places before, like the movie theater, but this was different. They were going to be strolling around and kissing each other in a garden center. Steve wouldn’t deny his frazzled nerves. He knew he looked _much_ older than Bucky. To anyone that really looked their way, it’d be clear as day Bucky was underaged. But he was doing this for Bucky. Bucky wanted this and these people couldn’t do a damn thing about it. They weren’t doing anything illegal and none of them knew Steve was Bucky’s physician.

At least, Steve hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone from the hospital at the floral nursery. He gulped as he walked into the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth. Sam didn’t garden, Bruce didn’t garden, and Tony didn’t garden. Sharon was the only one who knew and he was pretty sure she didn’t garden either. It wasn’t to say that medical professionals didn’t garden but typically, they didn’t have the free time for the hobby. Steve hoped that little theory of his proved true.

“Hurry up!” Bucky whined as he came behind Steve, cupping his hands over Steve’s pecs and squeezing them.

“H-hey!” Steve laughed, accidentally choking on the toothpaste.

Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re a dork.”

“Bite me,” Steve retorted. He hissed when he felt teeth dig into his shoulder. He should’ve known. “Okay, okay! Ya little vampire.”

Bucky hummed happily, nuzzling his head between Steve’s shoulder blades as Steve went back to brushing his teeth. “I love you.”

“Wuv ‘ou ‘oo,” Steve mumbled around the toothbrush. He spit out the paste and grabbed a cup to rinse. “Love you too,” he corrected once he spat out the water.

Bucky kissed Steve’s back, humming and drawing nonsensical pictures with the tip of his nose between Steve’s shoulders.

Steve relaxed into the light touches, fighting the desire to toss his head back. He wrapped his hands behind his back, grabbing Bucky’s hips and pulling as much as he could against them.

Bucky stepped forward, rolling his hips up against Steve’s ass.

Steve shivered, embarrassment and uncertainly flooding into him like a broken dam. He turned around quickly, pulling Bucky into his arms and cupping a hand over Bucky’s cheek.

“I was just teasing,” Bucky explained. “Not gonna ask to put it in your ass.”

Steve sighed heavily, biting his lip. “It’s not that I wouldn’t,” he offered. “It’s just– I didn’t think–”

“It’s okay!” Bucky laughed. “I like being on bottom. Maybe one day. We’ve got my whole life.”

Steve winced, hating that the first thought that trickled into his head was the uncertainty of how long Bucky had. The gods dangled Bucky’s lifespan on a thin piece of yarn, twisting it and tugging– never knowing when it would break but always reminding Bucky that it _would_. Steve hated it. Steve hated how powerless he felt. He couldn’t save Peter and he couldn’t save Bucky. He couldn’t save his mother and he couldn’t even save himself when the time come. When death comes– it’s absolute. There’s nothing anyone can do about it.

“Ready?” Bucky asked, nibbling lightly against Steve’s bearded face.

“Yeah,” Steve responded, leaning into Bucky’s lovebites. “Get my keys?”

Bucky gave a lazy salute and then ran for the stairs.

Steve listened to Bucky stomp loudly as he ran to the foyer to the key holder. He laughed softly. He loved Bucky’s exuberance and passion. He loved that when Bucky did something, he put his whole existence into it. Bucky was emotion incarnate. Every little flicker of fear, happiness, passion– it sparked upon that face like flint to a fire pit. It was explosive and hypnotic. It was part of the reason Steve loved Bucky so much.

“Gotcher keys,” Bucky announced as Steve walked into the foyer to grab his shoes. “Can I drive?”

“No,” Steve answered. “Let’s go.”

“Hey wait,” Bucky said, grabbing Steve’s hand.

Steve turned into Bucky, lacing his brow with heavy concern.

“I love you.”

Steve twitched his brow in confusion. He was used to Bucky being needy but there was something else beneath those little words. Steve could see it in those exposed eyes, uncertain and still trembling with excitement.

“I love you too,” Steve replied, kissing Bucky on the cheek.

“No, I mean,” Bucky fumbled. “I mean this means a lot to me. What yer doing. Takin’ me out and letting me play in your garden. I mean, what if a doctor or someone drove by?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not a crime to love you. It’s just moderately frowned upon.”

Bucky snorted. “I did my research too, Steve. You could lose your license.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I could.”

“Could still get sued by other patients and my parents.”

“I could.”

“Could still face jail time anyway,” Bucky continued.

“I could,” Steve answered, sounding absolute and unafraid. He knew what Bucky was searching for. Any hint of apprehension, any hint of trepidation or fear and Bucky would be left reeling and terrified. Steve couldn’t be nervous about this in front of Bucky. He couldn’t be scared or afraid of the future if someone found out that wasn’t Sharon. He had to be absolute. So he’d be absolute for Bucky. He’d be anything Bucky needed.

Bucky wiped at his eyes, catching tears Steve knew he was shedding. “Let’s go.”

Steve followed Bucky out of the house, turning to lock up and then together, they were on their way to create the most beautiful garden Steve would ever see.

He was already dreading all the maintenance he’d have to give it…

* * *

 

“Tulips are a safe choice right?” Bucky asked as he looked over some golden and yellow tulips.

“They are,” Steve answered as he picked up a few planted bulbs.

“No wait!” Bucky said as he snatched the bulbs. “They’re too easy. I wanna make your garden like– like someone’s stepping into another world. Like a fantasy land!” Bucky spun around, running over to flowers that Steve was sure he had no idea how to pronounce.

“Del-phin-iums,” Steve spoke slowly. “Those look like they’re unique.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, grabbing a few potted infant delphiniums. “I like the pink and purple ones best.”

“That’s fine, baby,” Steve whispered as he kissed Bucky’s temple. “Get whatever ones you want.”

“What about morning glories? Oh or those aster things! Those were– wait! Pansies! Those were in _Alice and Wonderland_!” Bucky took off toward the pansies to snatch up a few of the potted bulbs. He smiled sweetly to an elderly woman nearby and then jogged back over to Steve. “There! We need more color though.”

Steve laughed. “Tulips are colorful.”

“Tulips are too easy!” Bucky groaned. “Roses! Roses are always a classic choice!”

Steve winced at the price tags of the roses over by the checkout. “What about peonies?”

“What about proclaiming your love to me in the form of a garden that looks fit for fairies and magic?” Bucky eyed Steve knowingly.

Steve rolled his eyes, sighing. “Fine, get the roses. But I want peonies too.”

Bucky moved forward, getting up on his tip-toes to place a kiss to Steve’s lips. He lingered there, his fingers pressed to Steve’s chest. “I knew you’d be the best thing in my whole life.”

“Graduating college feels pretty good too,” Steve countered.

“Not as good as your cock in my ass,” Bucky teased, nipping at Steve’s lips.

Steve had to pull away and suppress a moan. His heart was racing, thumping loudly in his ear as he looked around. People were eyeing them suspiciously. Steve didn’t usually mind how quick he was to break down and give into Bucky’s body but right here? Now? It was the worst place to feel his dick throb in his jeans. He turned a corner, pushing the cart as he came to inspect some lilies. He picked up a few already full grown potted ones. They were orange. Hopefully that solved Bucky’s color problem.

Bucky came back with a few potted young roses. “These okay?”

“Perfect,” Steve answered.

Before Bucky could reply, a little girl in a stroller was pointing at them. Steve’s mouth dropped open as he took a step back. He didn’t know what the girl was saying. He didn’t know if it was because she liked his beard or thought it was funny men were looking at flowers but he didn’t care. The first thing that came to his mind was his fear of her _knowing_ they weren’t really allowed to be together. It wasn’t that it was wrong. Steve had no shame in dating a man much younger than himself. He’d come to terms with it. He didn’t exactly _like_ it but it was either have Bucky or not have Bucky and now– Steve couldn’t ever give Bucky up. The issue was the embarrassment he felt for doing things entirely wrong.

Bucky’s parents didn’t know. Steve’s closest friends didn’t know. Sharon was one person and she certainly wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t right. They were doing this all wrong. They were living in a bubble and completely ignoring the protocol. This wasn’t supposed to be a secret. Love wasn’t supposed to be a secret.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered, lightly touching Steve’s arm. “You okay?”

Steve turned to Bucky, his eyes misty.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he scanned over Steve’s face. “Steve– a-are the flowers gettin’ to ya? Are you allergic? I didn’t even ask.”

“No,” Steve replied. “I’m not allergic.” He pulled Bucky into his arms, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “I’m crazy about you.”

Bucky laughed softly, slightly uncertain. He was stiff in Steve’s arms. Steve was sure he was just as uncomfortable with public displays of affection as the rest of the people in the nursery trying desperately to stop watching the older man hold onto his younger boyfriend.

“We need to do this right,” Steve continued. “Your parents–”

“No!” Bucky shouted, pulling back. He winced, looking around as he realized he’d been a bit too loud. “I mean, no. My dad would _kill_ you!”

“What about my friends? Sam–”

“ _Dr. Wilson_?!” Bucky spat. “Steve, what the fuck’s wrong with you?!”

“Is there something I can help you with?” a sale’s associate asked, sounding a little apprehensive.

Steve wanted to deck the guy in the face but he knew that wouldn’t exactly help anyone.

“We’re fine,” Bucky replied. “Just trying to find flowers to make a fantasy-like garden.”

“Have you looked at the dahlias yet? They like cooler weather so spring is great for them here in Brooklyn. They can get up to five feet tall. Really fantastical type of flower.”

“That’s great,” Steve quipped. “We’ll check ‘em out.”

“I could show–”

“Thank you, but we’re just looking,” Steve hissed.

“O-okay. Let me know if you need any help.” The sales associate took a step back before turning his body and scurrying away.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, grabbing Steve’s hand. “He’s just doing his job.”

Steve pulled away from Bucky, grabbing the cart and moving toward the dahlias. He was embarrassed. It wasn’t often that he’d set off on someone like that and he felt immensely guilty. It weighed against him like a sack of rocks, tossing and toiling around in his stomach.  He was embarrassed for his desperate need to let their relationship be more than the dirty little secret it was. And it was a dirty little secret. Bucky was a hidden gem, locked away and asked to never show his affections for Steve at the hospital, and Steve was never to let his family or friends know how much he’d come to love a boy who never gave up in the face of death.

He hated it.

He _hated_ that Bucky was okay with this. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about hiding was okay. Hiding was suspicious, like Steve was taking advantage of Bucky or hurting him. Steve would never hurt Bucky. Never. Their relationship was equal and healthy. Bucky was often the instigator of their more scandalous activity. But it wasn’t okay. Bucky’s parents thought Bucky was at the hospital with Peter. Not only was that disrespectful to Bucky’s parents, but to Peter as well. He was being used as a tool so Steve and Bucky could be together for the day. Didn’t Bucky see how wrong that was?

“Do you want any other flowers, Steve?” Bucky asked begrudgingly. He walked with slumped shoulders, focused more on the people around them than Steve’s gait.

“I don’t care, Buck,” Steve responded. He winced, instantly regretting his words. He wanted to gobble them back up and swallow them down despite their sharp edges. Bucky was already sulking, crossing his arms over his chest and walking slower. Steve wanted to bang his head against a wall. “Buck–”

“It’s okay,” Bucky reassured, trying to offer a small smile. “You’re upset. I know. We can talk about it later. I promise. Just– just please be here with me now.” He bit his lip, looking down at his shoes. “It’s important to me.”

Steve sucked in a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.”

“It’s okay. You just love me.” Bucky bumped his shoulder into Steve’s arm, shrugging casually.

“I do,” Steve professed automatically, feeling his heart squeeze. They came up to the hyacinths and Bucky leaned over the white flowers, cooing at them. Steve took a deep breath through his nose. He’d gotten riled up, but he wasn’t incapable of letting it go for now. Bucky would talk to him about it later and that’s just what they had to do. Right now, Bucky was enjoying designing a garden and Steve wouldn’t take that away from him.

_‘Who knows if he’ll ever get to do this again…’_

* * *

 

When they got home and unloaded the car, Bucky immediately went to the garden and took stock of the layout. He furrowed his brow, looking at the overgrown shrubbery and weeds. “This is gonna need work.”

“We’ve got all day,” Steve said behind him. “You hungry? I could make us some salads before we get to work.”

Bucky pursed his lips, looking around the garden. “Nah, not yet. And I hate salad.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I could make me salad and you a turkey panini with salt and vinegar potato chips.”

“It’s like you know me,” Bucky teased as he turned and pressed a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. “I love you.” Bucky watched Steve’s eyes wince just the smallest amount. Bucky knew how free he was with expressing his affection for Steve, but he just wanted to be _sure_ Steve really knew. Every day was a blessing and one day, they’d run out of those blessings. Bucky just wanted to make sure Steve knew how much Bucky loved him. He just wanted to be sure Steve never had to guess when he stood over…

Bucky groaned, pulling back and clutching his stomach. He didn’t mean to think like this. He was getting better at pushing the thoughts aside but here they were again, snarling and biting at Bucky’s heels and he was powerless to do anything but endure them.

Steve was at his side immediately, wrapping his arms around Bucky and rubbing his back.

“I’m fine,” Bucky groaned, gulping back air. “I’m just– thinking badly.”

“Thinking badly?” Steve prompted.

Bucky pulled away, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to swing them back into this circle. _He_ knew how he felt about death but he was trying so hard to get over it or just ignore it when he was around Steve. There was only so much that Steve could say or do. Bucky didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want Steve to fear the time they spent together. Beating a dead horse was exactly what Bucky was doing and he _hated_ himself for it.

“I’m just being an idiot,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m gonna get the trowels.”

“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed as he grabbed at Bucky’s wrist. “Talk to me.”

Bucky bit his lip, trying to focus on his breathing. His chest felt like it was caving in, and all he wanted to do was curl up into Steve’s arms and fall asleep. He didn’t want this conversation. They had it time and time again. He wanted to move on from it and try to show Steve that he was capable of moving on from it. He closed his eyes, feeling tears sting into them.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “Talk to me.”

“I’ve been doin’ so good,” Bucky began, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’ve been seein’ Dr. Jarvis and I’ve been doin’ so good. You make me so happy.”

Steve nodded, gently caressing his fingers up and down Bucky’s upper arms.

“I just think about what it’ll be like when I’m dead and you’re still here,” Bucky spoke softly, his voice cracking and too weak to hide the fear that clouded around Bucky like a lazy storm.

Steve looked down at the ground, grinding his teeth together.

Bucky hated himself. He knew Steve was probably done with this conversation and here Bucky was, trying to have it again even if it was because Steve prompted him. It was still Bucky’s fault. It was still his mind that made him feel this way.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered. “I spoil everything, don’t I?”

“That’s not true,” Steve rushed out, his brows pulling together. “You make everything better. God, Buck– I– shit. I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t picture it because I _literally_ cannot take it. I’ve,” he paused, wavering on his feet. “We really should talk about this inside.”

“It’s sunny,” Bucky blurted. “I wanna be outside and in the sun. I hardly ever get to see it.”

“Then the back porch. Not out here with joggers and dog-walkers.”

Bucky nodded, taking Steve’s hand following him around the red brownstone to the gate on the six-foot privacy fence. Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand, smiling sadly when Steve squeezed back. It was the smallest of gestures but it meant so much to Bucky. Reassurance. Companionship. It’s all Bucky ever wanted. The last thing he wanted to do now was fuck it all up. He was terrified he’d already started to chip away at Steve’s seemingly never-ending patience. It froze over his veins and made his limbs wobbly.

Steve sat down on the hammock, moving into the middle so it balanced out and offered out his arms to Bucky.

Bucky practically dove into Steve, swaying the hammock dangerously toward completely tipping. When it settled, he breathed out, laughing softly.

“This okay?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked around them. The yard was small and the grass was a little too long. It was a boring backyard with a rusted grill. Along the fence, the earth was rubbed raw from Cap probably running along it each time he was outside. It was warm out, and the sun was shining and coating Bucky’s skin with a delicious calming sensation. He felt heavy and warm.

“It’s okay.”

Steve cleared his throat, sighing heavily. Bucky felt his strong lungs enlarge as he rose and fell with Steve’s chest.

“Sharon knows about us,” Steve announced.

Bucky’s world felt like it was thrust upside down. His tongue turned to ash in his mouth and he wasn’t entirely sure how his eyes didn’t pop right out of his face.

“It’s okay!” Steve reassured, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair and pushing his head back against Steve’s chest. “She supports it.”

“Seriously?” Bucky questioned. His voice was so timid he wasn’t even sure it was his own.

“She thinks you need me. And– she knows I need someone too. But not you, I mean, I have you but I need someone in addition to you.”

“What?” Bucky asked, he rolled his head so his chin was pressing against Steve’s sternum. He looked up through his lashes, a flash of defiance and disgust in his eyes.

“I mean, God, I suck at this,” Steve fumbled. “I mean she knows our situation and she knows I need someone to talk to about it.”

“I’m not following.”

“Bucky,” Steve tried again. Only this time, his voice was edged with fear and despair. It was a knife too close to Bucky’s throat and he feared how it’d feel once it dragged across his skin. “You will die one day.”

Bucky knew the sun was out, yet all he saw was darkness. He stopped breathing. He was pretty sure his heart stopped beating and he knew for absolutely certain that every atom in his body was letting out a bloodcurdling shriek at Steve’s words.

“I don’t want you to. And it doesn’t mean you’re gonna die young, but just like me– yeah, you’ll die. I’ll die. But science isn’t on our side. The chances of you dying before me are yeah, higher.”

“How could you say this?” Bucky asked, feeling tears well up in his eyes, warming his suddenly freezing skin despite the heat he’d felt before. He scrambled up, wobbling the hammock and sitting cross-legged at Steve’s feet, his mouth open and eyes staring in disbelief at Steve. “You _know_ how I feel about this!”

“I know!” Steve shouted back, sitting up much more gracefully than Bucky had. He too crossed his legs and leaned forward, using his hands wildly as he spoke. “Why do you think I fight so hard for you, Bucky? I can’t _stand_ the idea of losing you! I’ll–” His voice cracked off, abrupt and sounding so similar to a dog yelping in pain. “I’ll die too. If it’s tomorrow, if it’s in a year or fifty years. The day you die is the day I die too. I may not stop breathing but I sure as hell will stop living. Jesus, Bucky, I never thought– I didn’t– I love you. I love you so much you that I had a fucking asthma attack worrying about the day you _do_ die.”

Bucky just stared, his eyes round and etched with so much horror he was sure they were audibly cracking like straining glass.

“Sharon found me. She calmed me down and we talked about you. She’s known for awhile. She wasn’t sure, but she had an idea. I need her. I need,” He broke off again, sobbing.

Bucky crawled awkwardly on the hammock to Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders and running his hands through Steve’s hair. Never in a million years would Bucky have thought about what it must feel like to be the one who will survive the other. Never in a million years would Bucky have ever thought Steve was suffering just as much as Bucky. He may not be the one getting sick or having to worry about infections, but he was suffering along with Bucky. And he’d been _so silent_ about it. Bucky knew why. It was as evident as the nose on Steve’s beautiful face; a face with tears streaming down it and contorting into strained lines and uttering ugly sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed the salty tears, trailing his lips after their shining tracks.

Steve just continued to sob. His shoulders shook in Bucky’s embrace. He was a large man but crying made him feel so small in Bucky’s arms.

It was almost hypnotizing to Bucky, watching Steve fall to pieces. Some people just looked beautiful when they cried and others looked older and ugly. Steve was an ugly crier. He twisted up his face, let his mouth hang open and his sobs were loud and he held nothing back. But that’s what made him so _beautiful_. It was the emotion that flowed out of his tears that enraptured Bucky. It was the way he didn’t hold back that kept Bucky’s gaze focused and wide. His body molded against Bucky while Bucky struggled to balance on his knees to keep Steve’s face against his chest.

“I get it,” Bucky said, smoothing out Steve’s hair, petting him over and over. “I get why you need someone who isn’t me. You tried to talk to me about it earlier, didn’t you? At the flower store?”

Steve just nodded into Bucky, turning his face into Bucky’s neck. Steve’s breath was hot and made Bucky feel uncomfortably warm suddenly but he didn’t move back. He’d never pull away from Steve– not when Steve was cracked open like this. Bucky was afraid he’d never see this again if he pulled away. Steve had been there for Bucky, through illness and health. He’d been there to humor Bucky and reassure him. It was Bucky’s turn now. This was part of being in a relationship and Bucky would do his job as a lover and soothe as much pain as he could from Steve. Even if it meant looking at death and the sobering consequences of HIGM.

“I know why you didn’t tell me,” Bucky continued as he stroked at Steve’s hair still. “You’ve been tryin’ to be strong this entire time. I never knew. I’ve been throwing my shit on you and you’ve been so good about hiding how you feel. I don’t want you to feel you hafta do that, baby.”

Steve whimpered into Bucky’s throat. Bucky wasn’t sure it was because of the pet name or because of his words.

“I’m scared of dying. We know this. But it’s gonna happen one day and there ain’t nothin’ we can do about it. I mean, sorta. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep tryin’ and you’ll keep treatin’. We’ll do everything we can so that when it does happen, we don’t regret anything. I’m scared of leaving you behind, baby–”

Steve curled his fists into Bucky’s shirt, stretching out the fabric.

“I’m scared of that probably more than I’m scared of slippin’ away.” Bucky sniffed, trying to stop the tears before they fell. He wiped at his eyes with his free hand but it was no use. Tears continued to build up, and they eventually fell against Steve’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna leave you sad and alone. I need you to tell me what to do. I need to know what we can do now so that when it does happen, you won’t be so sad. You gotta tell me.”

Steve hiccupped a few times, his breath going from big gasps to a few wheezes. He grabbed at this throat, pulling back and swallowing loudly.

“Steve?” Bucky gasped, feeling panic dig its claws into his spine.

Steve gasped big before hiccupping a few more times. He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose until it was a steady rhythm.

Bucky just watched, unsure of what to do or say anymore.

“If I kept goin’, I was gonna throw myself into an asthma attack. I really gotta stop doing that.” He cracked a smile, but his eyes were too sad to let it brighten up his face. His right cheek was  red and splotchy beneath his beard from being pressed up against Bucky and his eyelids were red. He looked sicker than Bucky ever had, but Bucky still couldn’t stop finding what made Steve beautiful– his slightly crooked nose, his blue eyes, speckled with green around the irises, how his beard was more auburn than blond despite the hair atop his head and the tiny freckles that dotted the apples of his cheeks.

Bucky swallowed roughly, trying to pull his gaze back and be in the moment instead of admiring the way Steve looked. It was hard sometimes. Steve was, by every definition, _gorgeous_.

“I’m never gonna leave you,” Steve continued. “So if I’m never gonna leave you, then that means I’m gonna marry you.”

Bucky felt the air up and leave his lungs.

“And if I’m gonna marry you, then we can’t keep hiding how we feel about each other.”

“Steve–”

“I know. I could lose my job, get sued or go to prison. But you’re worth it. You’re more than worth it and I think if we just start off slow with people–”

“ _Steve_!” Bucky exclaimed.

Steve’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth clashing together audibly. He stared intently at Bucky, a guarded expression ghosting over his face.

“It’s not worth it if you go to prison. I couldn’t see you anymore.”

“There’s visitation,” Steve countered.

“And who’d let me go? I’m a minor for another year, Steve. That’s a year without you and what if I died? What if I was on my death bed and you couldn’t be there because you were there? That’d kill you! That’d kill me! I can’t. It’s not worth it.”

Steve closed his eyes slowly, taking in a slow breath. “I can’t live like this, Buck. What if you do die before you’re eighteen? I don’t have any pictures of you. I don’t have any friends beside Sharon to talk to about you. I mean, yeah, I’m a doctor and sure I could go to your funeral, but what would people think if I was on my knees bawling like I just did? I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t mourn you properly.”

Bucky let the tears silently slip from his eyes as he imagined a Steve, clad in black and on his knees, looking at a coffin as it was lowered into the ground with a face as red and splotchy as Steve’s face was now. He imagined the strange looks his parents would give him as he wailed and cursed the sky. He imagined how people would shy away from him and no one would wrap an arm around his shoulder and let him cry against their body.

Bucky gasped at how intense the guilt seared into his heart.

No, Steve couldn’t live like this. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that the amount of time Bucky was on the earth decided if their relationship was okay or not. It wasn’t fair that their bodies didn’t care what age they were. Hormones aligned with hormones and for some wild and crazy reason, both their brains thought the other attractive enough to want to fall in love with– and they had. They’d fallen in love and not once had Bucky ever felt victimized or abused. Not once did he ever feel taken advantage of or manipulated by Steve. If anyone had done the manipulating, it was Bucky. Bucky was the one who pressured Steve into kissing him all that time ago. It was Bucky who came onto Steve stronger than a charging rhino.

What did it matter how long he’d existed on this planet? It wasn’t their fault. It was chemistry. It was the laws of attraction and they were powerless to it.

“Then who do we tell first?” Bucky asked, his voice small and uncertain. “Please don’t say my parents because I’m not ready for that.”

Steve gulped, his face relaxing and looking like he’d shed several years off it instantly. Women would kill to have as good of skin as Steve had.

“I dunno,” Steve answered, shrugging. “Sam? I mean– Dr. Wilson?”

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nose. “You sure he’ll be okay with it?”

“I’m absolutely not sure. But if he’s not okay with it, I at least know he won’t go and tell Dr. Rumlow.”

“You wanna tell my parents, don’t you?” Bucky concluded, watching Steve’s sagging shoulders.

“Yes,” Steve whispered. “I wanna be able to pick you up from your house. Tell your parents I’ll have you home by nine and most importantly, I want them to know you’re safe. What if you got hurt? What if we got in a car accident or– or somethin’ else. I couldn’t live with myself.”

Bucky closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready for this. His parents weren’t okay with his sexuality. His father bickered with him at every turn about it. They were getting less aggressive about their disdain for it, but they still didn’t like it. And they were the most dangerous people to tell. They were the ones who could sue Steve and get him tossed in jail. Though, now that Bucky was thinking about it, if Dr. Wilson reported their relationship, Bucky was sure that Dr. Rumlow would eventually inform Bucky’s parents.

“Why can’t we just take a bunch of selfies and go to Walgreen to get ‘em printed out and frame them?”

“Because Sam comes over, Bucky,” Steve responded, a little edge to his words as he adjusted on the hammock. “I’d be frantic to hide them each time and what if I forgot?”

“You’d never forget,” Bucky stated. “I know you.”

Steve nodded, sucking at his teeth with his tongue. “You don’t want anyone else to know.”

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “It’s not that I don’t want anyone else to know. It’s just, I’m scared. If they take you away from me, I’d probably die of a broken heart.”

Steve laughed softly. “You’re a sap.”

“I’m in love with you,” Bucky pressed. “And I know it’s probably borderline unhealthy because I’m so co-dependent but I can’t help it. And I ain’t got all the time in the world to figure out how to be more independent. You’ve made me so happy. I don’t want the only thing that gives me a reason to live to go away.”

Steve pressed his forehead against Bucky’s. He brushed their noses together, wrapping his legs and arms around Bucky.

Bucky moving pliantly, letting Steve wrap himself around Bucky. He nuzzled back, tracing his nose around Steve’s lightly. “We’ve got something real good, Steve. I’m not ready to give it up.”

“You’ll never be ready to give it up,” Steve said.

“But when I’m eighteen, it won’t matter anymore. No one gets to say anything about us.”

Steve was silent for a moment as tears glazed his eyes. Bucky already knew what he’d say before he even said it.

“But what if you don’t _get_ to be eighteen?” Steve asked, sounding so much younger than Bucky had ever heard. He was uncertain and scared of the question. Bucky was sure he didn’t even want to ask it but it was there, lurking in the back of Steve’s mind just like the concept of death was lurking in Bucky’s.

Bucky pressed his mouth softly to Steve’s. It was an open kiss, slow and unrushed. He pulled back, looking at Steve’s closed eyes as his lover seemed to savor the moment for as long as possible.

When Steve opened his eyes, Bucky said, “Let’s tell Dr. Wilson first. Then we can take selfies and put up pictures all over your house. Let me get used to the idea. _Then_ we’ll talk about my parents. Okay?”

Steve nodded, leaning forward to kiss Bucky with tiny, loud, and little kisses.

Bucky giggled into each kiss, cupping at Steve’s shoulders and letting Steve push him down into the hammock. It swung lazily beneath their weight.

Steve opened his mouth, pushing his tongue against Bucky’s mouth to pry his lips apart.

Bucky opened his mouth, tilting his head to the side as he ran his fingers up and down Steve’s back. He cupped at Steve’s ass, squeezing and grinding his hips up.

Steve moaned into the kiss as his lips slipped over Bucky’s. He responded by thrusting his hips down into Bucky.

They continued to kiss; wet, sloppy kisses that got saliva on chins and Steve’s beard all wiry and disheveled.

Bucky brought his hands to Steve’s jeans and undid the man’s fly. He pulled back, gasping and wiping the saliva off his face with his free hand.

“Bucket list?” Steve asked.

“Sex outside?” Bucky laughed. “Yeah, it’s on it.”

“Wanna?” Steve inquired, sounding breathless and urgent. He kissed down Bucky’s neck, sucking at the collar bone.

Bucky let his eyes close, indulging in the feeling of Steve’s wet mouth and the warmth from the sun. He growled back in his throat, tugging at Steve’s jeans and pulling them down to the knees.

Steve pulled back, very carefully taking off his jeans the rest of the way, pausing occasionally when the hammock swung awkwardly.

“We shouldn’t be on a hammock,” Bucky laughed.

“Eh,” Steve shrugged. “If we fall, I’ll catch you.”

“Jesus,” Bucky responded, rolling his eyes. He undid his own jeans, worming his way out of them carefully as Steve climbed back atop him. He wrapped his legs around Steve, pressing his hips up into Steve and whining when their cocks grazed each other.

“I just wanna show the world how much I love you,” Steve professed as he kissed up the side of Bucky’s face. “I’m impatient.”

Bucky smiled, feeling his heart flutter in his chest. It was a unique feeling– being the object someone wanted to _show off_. It made his bones hum and his lungs tremble as laughter made its way up his throat. He pressed his mouth to Steve’s, catching him awkwardly and getting more beard than lip but it was okay– Steve loved him. It didn’t matter what Bucky did or how he kissed. Steve loved him.

Steve kissed down Bucky’s neck, nipping and sucking loudly.

Bucky hummed approvingly, bringing his hands up into Steve’s hair and scratching at the man’s scalp. He rocked his hips into Steve, whining as his cock throbbed against his briefs.

Steve moved back, shimmying carefully so he could kiss at Bucky’s thighs and tickle his tongue along the sensitive skin.

Bucky trembled, whimpering pathetically as he turned to putty in Steve’s hands. He moved into each touch, like their bodies were caught in a dance routine that their minds never rehearsed. He squirmed against Steve’s hungry mouth, trying to bring his dick to Steve’s attention.

Steve’s hands splayed out against Bucky’s abs as they pushed up his shirt. They slipped beneath the top and found Bucky’s nipples to tweak them softly.

Bucky mewled again, arching up into the sensation. He hissed softly when Steve nipped at his thigh. “Y-you’re movin’ fast,” he breathed out.

Steve sat up, yanking his hands away. “I am? I’m sorry. I– I dunno. Maybe it’s the hammock.”

“How ‘bout we do something different,” Bucky suggested, smiling coyly.

“Like?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side like a mother-fucking puppy.

“We really need to work on your garden, so we can’t do this too long. Maybe we uh– we do– um, sixty-nine?”

Steve’s brows shot up.

“If you don’t wanna that’s okay!” Bucky rushed out. “I just, we never have. I’m curious.”

“Curious is fine, baby,” Steve reassured, laughing softly. “It’d be easier on a hammock anyway.”

Bucky nodded, letting his legs drop and splay open to reveal his hard cock against his briefs, swollen and needy. “So how do we do this?”

“Sit up on your knees for a sec,” Steve instructed. “I weigh more, so I’ll lie down and you just climb over me, okay? I’ll keep the hammock balanced.”

“Okay,” Bucky replied, dipping his chin. He waited for Steve to settle down into the hammock before trying to figure out how to move. He pressed his lips together, scratching awkwardly at his nose.

“Bucky,” Steve chuckled. “I know it’s awkward. This whole position is awkward.”

“You don’t like it?” Bucky asked, tracing his fingers up and down Steve’s thigh. He cupped over Steve’s dick, giving it a soft squeeze.

Steve purred, lifting his hips up into Bucky’s touch. “I like it just fine, but I can admit when getting into a position is awkward and slightly embarrassing.”

“I just don’t wanna tip the hammock,” Bucky sulked.

Steve sat up, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips and pulling him atop him. “You won’t.”

Bucky yelped as he found himself straddling Steve at the navel. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Steve’s desperately. Their tongues sloshed together heavily as lips twisted and tiny sucking sounds permeated around them.  

“Turn around and let me make you feel good,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s lips, nipping at them.

Bucky moaned against Steve’s mouth. He pressed another kiss to Steve’s lips, heavy and wet.

Steve growled, cupping Bucky’s ass before smacking it.

Bucky yelped, jerking back.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” Steve devilishly spoke, waggling his brows.

Bucky rolled his eyes but he did as instructed. He wobbled a little bit, but Steve’s weight held the hammock in place. He scooted back so his crotch was right above Steve.

Steve didn’t waste any time. He untucked Bucky from his briefs, pushing the fabric aside as he guided Bucky’s dick to his mouth.

Bucky gasped when Steve’s tongue pressed against his tip, swirling around it a few times before sucking on the tip softly.

“St-Steve,” Bucky whispered, dropping his head to Steve’s thigh.

Steve gently wiggled beneath Bucky, most likely trying to bring Bucky’s attention back to Steve’s dick.

Bucky gasped, swallowing thickly when Steve let his lips roll up and down his length before he’d swirl his tongue at the tip. He gave Bucky’s slit a few soft little licks before closing his lips over it.

Bucky looked back, he loved seeing Steve’s lips all red and swollen.

“Bucky,” Steve reminded. “This is a six. You’ve gotta add the nine.”

Bucky snorted at Steve’s words. He lifted up onto his hands and knees, nuzzling his nose against the fabric around Steve’s cock.

Steve hummed approvingly before going back to lap at Bucky’s tip.

Bucky shivered, trying not to let his body just drop again. He pulled at Steve’s briefs, settling the fabric beneath his balls. Mesmerized, he watched Steve’s cock twitch as it was released from Steve’s underwear.

His eyes fluttered shut when Steve lapped over his slit, over and over until it was almost maddening. He gasped, pushing his cock against Steve’s mouth to try to get the sensation to spread more. It was like a bullet slowly pressing into him, the sensation was too specific and centered for his body.

He licked a stripe of glistening saliva up Steve’s cock, tracing his tongue along the ridge of the tip.

Steve hummed around Bucky’s cock, sucking harder.

Bucky groaned, his breath ghosting over Steve’s dick.

Steve rocked his hips up into the air as he whined around Bucky’s cock. He sucked at Bucky’s tip, lazy and gentle as if they had all the time in the world.

Bucky wanted to savor this. He liked it when Steve was slow, but the sun was no longer climbing into the sky, and if he didn’t get back to the hospital, his parents would surely find out he wasn’t with Peter.

Guilt ebbed its way into Bucky’s chest as he took all of Steve into his mouth, sucking loud and rough against the shaft. Peter was in a hospital room and Bucky was here, blowing their doctor. Peter was probably dying and Bucky was going to experience yet another orgasm. Peter had never felt an orgasm. He was too sickly to masturbate and now…

“Bucky!” Steve exclaimed as he dropped Bucky from his mouth.

Bucky shivered as his cock went cold.

“Baby, are you with me?” Steve asked. “We don’t have to do this.”

“No,” Bucky protested. “I wanna do this.”

“You’re not even hard anymore,” Steve challenged.

Bucky blinked, looking at his cock. He wasn’t flaccid, but he wasn’t exactly erect either.

“Do you feel okay?”

Bucky furrowed his brow, feeling embarrassed and angry that he couldn’t shake the guilt that was tugging at the bottom of his heart.

“Just– fuckin’ blow me, Steve!” Bucky snapped. He took Steve’s cock back into his mouth, letting his tongue press against the underside as he bobbed up and down.

Steve gently picked up Bucky’s hips and in a quick flash of motion, somehow managed to get Bucky to sit in his lap.

“Steve!” Bucky groaned. “I don’t want this!”

“I can tell!” Steve countered.

“No not that,” Bucky sulked. “I mean, I wanted that a lot. I just– I started thinkin’ about Peter.”

Steve pressed a kiss into Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s okay. If you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood.”

“But I was in the mood,” Bucky whined. “I was _really_ in the mood.”

“Confession?” Steve began, his brows rising on his forehead. “I really wasn’t.”

“But you’re hard,” Bucky stated.

“Yeah, that’s not really unachievable when you look as pretty as you do.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. He bit his lip, feeling more guilt press into his chest, like rocks slowly rolling atop him. It was bearable at first until he found himself taking big gasps.

“So you were gonna do that just because I wanted to?” Bucky asked softly, resting his chin against his shoulder.

“Yup,” Steve answered. “I’d do anything for you.”

“If you don’t wanna do somethin’, don’t do it. I can take no for an answer.”

Steve smiled, his pretty blue eyes glistening like a freshwater stream. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna tell you no. I wanna give you anything you want if I can give it to you.”

“I love you,” Bucky whispered. “But I really wanna go see Peter.”

Steve nodded, pressing a light kiss to Bucky’s temple. “Of course, baby. I’ll drive you.”

“What about the flowers?”

“They can live for a few days in the cartons. We can plant them later.”

Bucky nodded. He turned away from Steve, looking down at his briefs. Beneath them, his cock was entirely flaccid and not even remotely upset it didn’t get to come. He fidgeted his mouth, pressing his lips together and occasionally nibbling at them. He couldn’t shake the guilt that weighed against his body now. Peter was in a bed right now. He was lying in a room completely alone while his Aunt May worked two jobs just to keep their house and pay for Peter’s medical bills.

Peter would never know the love of another man the way Bucky had come to. He wasn’t afraid to die like Bucky, but there was so much life he’d never experienced and Bucky hated that.

“Steve,” Bucky said as Steve carefully stood from the hammock to adjust his briefs and slip his jeans back on. “Do you care if I kiss Peter?”

Steve blinked, his brow furrowing softly.

“He’s never been kissed, remember?”

“Bucky, you do whatever you two want to do. I’m not gonna be offended or upset.”

“What if he wants me to jack him off?”

“He’s not going to _want_ you to jack him off,” Steve reasoned, handing Bucky his pants. “He’s too sick.”

“But what if he did?” Bucky pressed, blinking up at Steve.

“Then you’ve got my permission to jack him off. Honestly, free pass with Peter. Anything’s fair as long as he wants it.”

“I can’t help but feel responsible for why he’s so sick,” Bucky mused. “I should’ve been there with him.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed as he kneeled before Bucky. He helped Bucky get back into his jeans before speaking again. “You didn’t give him lymphoma.”

“But I never see him unless I’m admitted,” Bucky pressed.

“It’s dangerous there if you’re not sick. You could _get_ sick. Like when you had pneumonia? That was because I kept you too long. You could get MRSA or skin infections. Hospitals try to be clean but there’s only so much we can do. It’s not safe for you to stay too long there.”

With each syllable, Bucky’s heart was breaking, snapping and falling to the pit of his stomach. He loved Steve. He wanted to be with Steve for the rest of his life, but Steve was wrong. He was right but he was _wrong_. Bucky needed to be there with Peter. He needed to show him he was loved and cared for. He needed to show him that someone would remember him after he was gone.

That was important to Peter, even if he tried to avoid the subject. Bucky knew him better than that. They both wanted to leave something behind.

Bucky now understood with acute clarity the feelings Steve had over Bucky– the guilt of survivorship, the feeling of glass spinning around in his stomach.

Peter was going to die, and Bucky would outlive him.

* * *

 

Steve dropped Bucky off at the front before going to park in the staff parking garage. Bucky walked into the hospital, a strange feeling lingering between his shoulders, like someone just barely touching him. It was weird being on the visitor side. He was so used to being the patient that it was almost like he was a ghost as he walked the halls. No nurse looked his way. No doctor stopped him to check his vitals. He honestly appreciated being the visitor instead of the patient.

Bucky walked into Peter’s room, listening to the oxygen tank click. The blinds were shut and the room had that dark and lonely feeling to it. Peter was asleep on the bed.

Bucky crawled into the bed above the covers. He wrapped his arm around his friend and nuzzled into Peter’s neck.

Peter stirred, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s me, Pete,” Bucky said softly. “I’m here to keep you company.”

“Bu-cky?” Peter croaked out.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered. He leaned up, pressing his lips to Peter’s cheek.

Peter hummed and settled back into Bucky’s arms. “Y’warm,” he slurred.

Bucky giggled softly, letting Peter turn into him and slip down to rest his head against Bucky’s chest. Bucky gently pet Peter atop his bald head. He wasn’t wearing his red and blue bandana today. Bucky knew Peter was bald, but Bucky always saw the bandana. It was harder to see Peter like this. His bones were visible through his skin and Bucky hated how blue the bags beneath Peter’s eyes were.

_‘This is how I’ll look one day. It’s what dying looks like…’_

Bucky pressed his lips to Peter’s head, kissing him over and over till the tears started to slip from his eyes. He hated this. It was the most overwhelming feeling that left his heart surging in his chest and his stomach reeling. He felt powerless, biter and outraged. He felt the tips of his fingers trembling as they clutched desperately to Peter’s small frame. He felt his toes curl against his feet and let muscles tense. He was powerless. No doctor, not even Steve, could do anything for Peter now. It was a waiting game. It was disgusting. What kind of God would make a child suffer this long? What kind of God would put a child on this planet only to make them face death earlier than most?

_‘Fuck you,’_ Bucky thought vilely in his head. If God played this game, Bucky wanted no part in this God.

Steve came into the room, softly closing the door behind him. Bucky watched as Steve went over to Peter’s chart and flipped through the pages. Steve then moved over to the computer and pulled up some of the nurses’ notes.

“How is he?” Bucky asked as he continued to cradle Peter to his chest.

“He’s dying,” Steve said softly, almost like the words had fought him but he’d managed to force them out anyway. “They’re just keeping him comfortable now. They stopped chemo and all his other treatments.”

“What!” Bucky gasped, looking down at his best friend. “No…”

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Steve whispered. “It was Peter’s choice.”

Bucky felt the hot tears slip from his eyes as he pressed his lips to his friend’s head again– his cool and soft head.

Steve pulled one of the rolling stools over to the bed and gently took Peter’s hand in his.

“I hate this,” Bucky stated. “I’m so angry I could puke.”

Steve nodded, staring distantly at Peter. “I do too.”

“He’s only seventeen,” Bucky continued. “He’s never been kissed. He’s never gone to an amusement park. Never held someone’s hand or gone on a date.”

Steve sniffed. Bucky didn’t want to see if he was crying or not.

“He never got to live. He only got to fight for a life that didn’t want him.”

Bucky saw Steve wipe at his face in his peripherals– he knew Steve was crying. There was something comforting in seeing a physician cry over his patient. Bucky often thought Dr. Conners never actually cared for him. He’d come in, explain what was wrong and then he’d leave. He never took the time to explain anything to Bucky or comfort him. Steve was such a better doctor, maybe because he wasn’t a surgeon. Bucky knew different types of medicine attracted different types of people. Surgeons mostly dealt with unconscious people. They probably didn’t have good people skills.

“Bucky,” Steve said, his voice strangled.

Bucky looked up, seeing the glassy wetness against Steve’s blue eyes. His cheeks were splotchy and red beneath his beard. He was such an ugly crier, and yet so beautiful to Bucky because of how honest it was. Steve wore his emotions on his sleeve and Bucky couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“He had you,” Steve continued. “He got a best friend who loved him.”

“But that’s not enough!” Bucky protested, his voice a little louder than he’d wished.

Peter stirred.

They both went silent.

Bucky wiped at his eyes, sniffing loudly. “I need a tissue.”

“Sure, baby,” Steve said as he stood up to grab the Kleenex box.

Peter opened his eyes, looking up uncertainly at Bucky. “W-when?”

Bucky didn’t like that Peter didn’t remember that Bucky had come in not but ten minutes ago.

“Just a bit ago,” Bucky explained. “You warmer now?”

Peter nodded.

Steve handed a tissue to Bucky. Bucky took it and dabbed at his eyes and wiped his nose. He dropped it into the waste can.

“You want any water?” Bucky asked. “Anything I can do?”

“Yeah, water,” Peter said softly.

Steve was already up and going to fetch a nurse for the water.

“How ya feelin’?” Bucky asked, caressing his friend’s arms as he lay against him.

“I’m always tired,” Peter explained. “Hate eating.”

Bucky just nodded. “You afraid?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m not you, silly. Death’s just part of life.”

“But you’re too young,” Bucky insisted, pressing his lips together.

Peter just casually shrugged as if the magnitude of his future didn’t bother him.

Steve came back, but he wasn’t alone. A man, probably in his twenties was with him. He was bald and had a few scars on his face. He’d probably be attractive if the scarring wasn’t so red.

“Peter,” Steve began, placing a hand on the other guy’s shoulder. “I want you to meet an old patient of mine.”

Peter tried to sit up but he collapsed into Bucky before he’d even made it a few inches. Bucky just wrapped his arms protectively around Peter.

“I’m Wade. Wade Wilson,” Wade introduced himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets, but not before Bucky noticed the scars there too.

“Wade had a very aggressive form of cancer,” Steve explained. He was most likely leaving out all the details. Not like Peter or Bucky would really understand them anyway. Well, Peter would, but not in his condition now.

“Cancer left all these stupid scars on me and I can’t grow hair, but I’m alive. We thought for sure I was gonna die,” Wade explained.

Bucky only blinked, listening.

“Were– were you like me?” Peter asked softly.

Wade pulled up one of the chairs and sat next to the bed. “Yeah. I halted my treatments too. But I didn’t just give up. If I was gonna die, I wanted to die proud of myself. So I basically made the nurses throw me a going away party. They were pretty pissed cause that going away party meant me dying but it made me pretty happy.”

Peter laughed. It was music to Bucky’s ears. He squeezed his friend, a smile on both their faces.

“Yeah, we had tacos and a ton of other Mexican food. That’s kind of my favorite. Greasy Mexican is the best. Ya feel it later but, eh. Life’s short, right?”

Steve just stood there at the foot of the bed. He had the proudest smile Bucky had ever seen on his face.

“I like Mexican,” Peter said. “But I like greasy burgers better.”

“Oh yeah? What kind? Bacon? Ya gotta have bacon!”

“Bucky,” Steve chirped, jerking his head toward the door.

Bucky whimpered, but he untangled himself from Peter gently. He looked to Wade’s face. He had pretty eyes, even if he didn’t have much of anything else that was pretty. He was no Steve, that’s for sure.

“Nice meeting you, Bucky” Wade said, offering out a scarred hand.

Bucky took it gingerly, wincing at how rough it felt. “Nice meeting you too.”

“You’ll be back, right?” Peter piped up, trying to sit up. “Right, Buck?”

Bucky had to choke back the lump in his throat. “Yeah, Pete. We’re just gonna step out for a bit.” Bucky didn’t want to leave Peter, but Bucky was also smart enough to know what was going on. Wade was a cancer survivor. He’d been down the path Peter was on. They already shared something that Peter and Bucky could never share. Yes, they were children with chronic diseases but Wade _beat cancer_. Bucky knew exactly what Steve was doing.

They walked out of the room silently, Bucky chewing his bottom lip and Steve still smiling. Bucky looked around at the doctors and nurses flittering around like bees around honey. He watched them come and go from patient rooms and their work stations.

“Is Dr. Wilson working today?” Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with round eyes.

Steve’s face flushed red. He scratched at his beard, shuffling on his feet a bit.

“Is he?” Bucky pried.

“Sharon’s here,” Steve stated as he nodded in the woman’s direction.

Sharon was leaning against the nurses’ station. She had her arms folded over her chest and her face was sad even though she was trying to smile. She started to walk toward them.

Bucky was terrified she’d start screaming at Steve but her arms scooped him up instead and he found himself wrapped in her embrace and face securely pressed into her neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about Peter.”

Bucky hugged her back.

She pulled back, caressing her fingers through his hair. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” Bucky stated, looking at Steve apprehensively.

Steve just gave an encouraging smile.

“How do you two manage to sneak around so much?” Sharon asked teasingly. She playfully flicked Steve on the chest.

Steve just laughed, absent-mindedly touching where she’d just flicked him. “We’re not lying. Bucky told his parents he wanted to be with Peter and he’s been with Peter.”

Sharon eyed them suspiciously before looking at Peter’s door.

“He’s in there with Wade,” Bucky stated.

“Wade? He’s back?” Sharon’s eyebrows rose.

“Not as a patient. I texted him on my way back with Bucky. Thought it’d be a good idea.”

Sharon nodded slowly. “It was.”

“So did Wade really almost die?” Bucky asked.

“We thought he had a few days left in him but he somehow bounced back. It’s not unheard of. Lymphoma is unpredictable like that. One day you’re on the brink of death and one day you’re actually doing pretty well,” Sharon explained. “But I gotta go. Be safe, you two.”

Steve waved her off as she turned on her heel and went into a room.

“So, what do we do now?” Bucky asked.

“Wanna see some cool stuff?” Steve asked as he smiled down at Bucky.

“Sure, you goof,” Bucky laughed.

Together they went into the elevator and went down to the research labs. While they walked down the halls with doors on either side showcasing some of what was going on inside, Bucky’s mind was still on Peter. There was a chance he’d suddenly pull through. It wasn’t unheard of. Bucky clung to the prospect like a mountain hiker clinging to his rope, desperate and horrified of any other outcome.

“Let’s go in here,” Steve said as they got to the end of the hall. He used his keycard to open the door.

They went into a room full of lab mice. Bucky gasped, looking around at all the little white mice with red eyes and pink noses. They were horrifyingly cute. Like a bunch of vampire mice.

“What do you use them for?” he asked.

“Cancer research. I won’t go into the details but just know we’ve learned a lot about cancer with their help.”

“And you kill them?” Bucky looked down at the little critters, feeling much more guilty about their lives than he should. It wasn’t his fault they were here, but he couldn’t help but want to break the cages and let them run free.

“I don’t kill them, no,” Steve said. “But the researchers occasionally have ones that don’t make it.”

“So you don’t do research here?”

“No. I’m actually working on something else but it’s still in a development stage. Just a paper proposal.”

“About?” Bucky asked, sticking his finger into the cage to pet one of the mice. It settled under him nicely, flattening out on its stomach.

“Immunodeficiency diseases.”

Bucky turned around in a flurry. His eyes were round and his mouth dropped open unintelligibly. “HIGM?”

Steve nodded. “Your strand.”

Bucky felt the tears before he knew he was crying. It didn’t matter that Steve was only in a developmental stage or there wasn’t anything really on the ground and running yet. He was looking into Bucky’s condition. He was trying to find a way to actually _beat_ it, not just live with it and hope for the best. Bucky leapt into Steve, nearly knocking him over as he threw his arms and legs around him. He buried his face into the crook of Steve’s neck and sobbed.

“That means everything to me,” he whispered.

“It means everything to me too,” Steve replied softly. “I don’t want you to die.”

Steve held onto Bucky, gently swaying them back and forth as he supported their weight. He shifted once, only to bring Bucky’s legs around his hips better. They said nothing to each other, breathing softly into each other’s ears and listening to the little squeaks of the mice around them.

Bucky’s heart was trembling. He wanted to break down and cry. He wanted to blabber about how Steve didn’t _understand_ just how much it really meant to him. Everything didn’t even cover half of it. There were countless research programs for cancer, heart disease, AIDS but not HIGM, not Bucky’s strand. His strand was a death sentence. Other forms were cured with the occasional blood transfusion but that could only stave off the inevitable for a little more for Bucky and he’d have to keep coming back. Being free– removing the shackles of his disease and not having to worry about sanitizing his hands after touching anything or having Steve use a Clorox wipe before he sat down to a movie– being free…

Bucky whined, clinging his legs firmer around Steve. He brought his face to Steve’s, resting their foreheads together and just staring into Steve’s eyes; those beautiful flecked eyes with splashes of green. He’d never breathed so easily this close to someone else. He was always afraid of the shows that made fun of bad breath but he’d never had that issue with Steve. If he had bad breath, Steve never said anything. Steve never had bad breath. Maybe it was his diet. He was always so strict about it.

_‘I’m rambling in my own head.’_

“I love you,” Bucky whispered, pressing his lips so softly to Steve’s he wasn’t even sure he’d actually reached the other.

Steve’s warm tongue came out to greet his lips, the lightest kitten lick over them he’d ever experienced. Steve’s lips followed soon after, slow and lazy as if eternity was theirs. He pressed them to Bucky’s, freezing and locking them together.

Bucky didn’t move. He didn’t push his tongue forward or pull his lips back. He didn’t close the kiss to go in for another. He just held himself there, feeling Steve’s warmth around him and the soft ache of his ankles from where he’d had them hooked behind Steve.

Steve sighed into Bucky’s mouth before moving. He tilted his head to the side, slipping his tongue to greet Bucky’s. They undulated together, their lips frozen in place as their tongues tickled at each other in the lightest of gestures.

Bucky giggled into the kiss, enveloping Steve’s lips more, pressing his mouth firmer and sucking harder.

Steve groaned, his hips moving back as he took a few steps to lean against the table behind him.

The kiss, so innocent and soft at first, turned fast into smacking lips that ebbed and flowed into each other. Tongues flicked out in casual greeting before retreating. Steve’s beard scratched at Bucky’s face, tickling and making him itch.

Bucky fisted into Steve’s shirt, pulling at the fabric as he tried to pull more of Steve’s mouth against his. He rocked his hips into Steve’s body, feeling his dick throb in anticipation.

“Bucket list,” he whispered against Steve’s lips, their foreheads still pressed together.

“In a mice lab?” Steve asked, voice raspy and breathless.

“In somewhere moderately public in a hospital,” Bucky corrected, smiling devilishly.

Steve nodded. “Not here. But I know somewhere.”

Steve didn’t put Bucky down. He walked awkwardly over to the door, opening and closing it behind them.

Bucky just laughed on Steve’s arms, kissing and suckling at his lover’s ear.

Steve hummed deep in his chest, reverberating against Bucky. He kept walking down the hall before turning right and into another room where he shut and _locked_ the door.

Bucky looked around. It was small, there was a desk and a chair, some files with patients’ names atop the desk, a filing cabinet and a cork board with pictures of African children on it.

“What’s this room?”

“Old Pro bono files. We don’t really use the room anymore.” Steve set Bucky gently down on the chair, nuzzling his nose over Bucky’s before stepping back.

“No,” Bucky whined.

Steve cocked a brow at him.

“You’re too far away,” Bucky sulked.

Steve smiled. He got on his knees before Bucky, casually moving his hands up to Bucky’s fly and undoing the jeans.

“We never finished what we started,” Steve detailed. “Wanna give you a proper blow job.”

Bucky leaned back in the chair, running his fingers back and forth through Steve’s short strands. He let his legs fall to the sides and Steve sidled up right between them.

Steve nuzzled at Bucky’s lap, pressing kisses to his fabric-covered thighs.

Bucky watched Steve, captivated by the man’s movements. Steve’s shoulders were trembling and his hands wouldn’t stop running over Bucky’s knees, and down his calves to hook fingers around Bucky’s ankles. He let those hands wander everywhere– anywhere. They roamed up Bucky’s abdomen, tickling at his hips before slipping right back to Bucky’s legs.

Steve was running his nose along Bucky’s thighs, tracing pictures against them. His breath ghosted against Bucky’s cock, making Bucky jerk his hips up slightly. Steve’s brow was furrowed, focused and determined as he pressed kisses along Bucky’s thigh and to his knees.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, his chest rising and falling. He felt like he’d just run a marathon but he’d hardly moved.

Steve looked up, tears wet in his eyes and the smallest smile on his lips.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

Steve smiled wider, nodding silently. He slipped his hand into Bucky’s jeans, dipping the boy’s underwear down to pull out his hardened cock. He leaned over more, lapping at the tip a few times playfully.

Bucky hissed, his hips jerking up into the air. He let his head roll back against the wall.

Steve flicked his tongue against the underside of Bucky’s dick, thrumming it back and forth quickly before wrapping his lips around it. He sucked softly, letting little sharp sounds echo into the air.

Bucky’s legs tensed up as he fought the urge to moan. He bit his lip, his brows furrowing as pain seared beneath his teeth.

Steve began to bob up and down, slowly at first, letting his lips rub up against Bucky’s tip each time he closed his mouth over it before plunging back down. He picked up the speed slightly, the little sucking sounds permeating the air more frequently. His tongue traced along the underside of Bucky’s shaft, hooking up to trace the tip tauntingly.

“Oh…shit,” Bucky gasped, grabbing Steve’s hair and tugging softly. “This is good.”

Steve hummed around Bucky’s cock, swirling his tongue around it a few times.

“Hah…ah…ah…hah…” Bucky panted as he watched Steve bob his head. That delectable tongue was flicking out against the slit before swirling around the cockhead to make Bucky mewl like a cat in heat.

He dug his feet into the tiled floor, feeling his leg muscles pull at the intensity.

Steve kept his eyes closed and that brow slightly creased in the middle– just how Bucky always loved it. He let Bucky’s cock drop from his mouth wetly. He looked up, smiling with those swollen lips.

“We don’t got lube,” Bucky analyzed breathlessly.

“We’re in a hospital, baby,” Steve said casually, his voice slightly husky. “I’ll be right back.”

“Steve,” Bucky whined, jerking his hips.

Steve looked to Bucky’s cock before looking back into his eyes. “You can manage.”

Bucky groaned but he waited patiently as Steve let the door close on its own. He sat there, staring at his glistening cock before he couldn’t tolerate it anymore. He stroked at himself, Steve’s saliva still encapsulating his shaft as he went. He pressed his finger to his tip, feeling the precome make his cockhead slippery.

Steve was back with a bottle of lube and a condom.

Bucky wouldn’t question why a hospital had condoms. Actually, it was probably a really simple explanation but he didn’t really care to know the answer right now.

“Steve,” Bucky whimpered. “Come back.”

Steve set the items on the desk before kneeling before Bucky again. He slowly licked his tongue over his lips, holding eye contact with Bucky.

“Jesus,” Bucky whispered. “Gonna come just by lookin’ at you.”

“Want me to keep going? Or do you want somethin’ else?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted. He scooted lower in the chair, bumping his cock against Steve’s lips.

Steve flicked his tongue out, circling it around Bucky’s slit.

Bucky shivered, curling his toes against his shoes. “St-Steve…”

Steve pulled away. He tugged at Bucky’s jeans, pulling them all the way down to his ankles before slipping off Bucky’s shoes and socks. He took the pants off the rest of the way.

“Keep your shirt on,” Steve instructed. “It’s too cold down here for you to be naked.”

Bucky nodded, still watching those red-swollen lips.

Steve undid his pants, slipping out of them and kicking off his shoes.

“You didn’t wear socks?” Bucky asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Not a big fan of socks,” Steve admitted, shrugging. “They make my feet all sweaty.”

“Ew,” Bucky giggled.

Steve just laughed breathlessly along. He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing those taut abs that Bucky could lick for hours and never get tired of it.

Bucky reached out and just like clockwork, Steve came toward him. Bucky let his fingers roam over Steve’s abs. He sat up in the chair, nuzzling his nose along the navel line before pressing kisses over it.

Steve just stroked his hands through Bucky’s hair, letting his nail gently scratch at the scalp. It made Bucky shiver happily.

Bucky yelped when he felt himself being lifted from the chair. Steve pushed the files off the table with a loud _twack_ as they cascaded to the floor. He laid Bucky atop the desk gently, moving Bucky’s legs over both his shoulders.

Bucky gripped the desk’s edges for support as Steve lowered his head to his ass. He closed his eyes, waiting for that hot tongue to taste him and get him to fall apart. It was his favorite sensation, feeling Steve’s face pressed so intimately close to his body. Some would find it vulgar, but Bucky found such trust in the act. It wasn’t the most sanitary area of the body, but Steve always enjoyed doing it and Bucky enjoyed letting him. They trusted each other to abstain from judgement or ridicule of each other. Not that Steve would ever say anything to Bucky, but Bucky went to great lengths to always make sure he was shaved and well-cleaned before he went to Steve’s if he thought this was a possibility.

Steve’s lips sucked at Bucky’s rim, making Bucky dig his heels into Steve’s back. Steve wasted no time in teasing now. His tongue circled once, twice and then it was dipping into Bucky to flatten out and push back and forth.

Bucky moaned out, low and guttural. He tightened his grip on the desk and let his heels dig just a tiny bit more into Steve’s back.

Steve circled his tongue forcefully around Bucky’s walls, coating him thickly with saliva. He pushed his nose up against Bucky’s perineum, making the boy jerk in surprise.

Steve let his tongue flick out with a soft _thud_ as he lapped a streak up to Bucky’s balls. He sucked one into his mouth, humming around it.

“J-Jesus!” Bucky gasped. He banged his head back on the desk. “N-never did…never did that before.”

Steve ignored him, letting his tongue dance along his perineum before slipping back into his hole to hook it and let it slip back and forth.

Bucky was squirming atop the table, pushing his ass up against Steve’s face, getting that beard to scratch against his cheeks nicely. He was panting loudly, Steve’s tongue ravaging him like a thirsty man finding water in a desert.

Bucky let his mouth drop open and a strangled whimper left his lips. He was pulling so hard at the table his fingers were starting to ache horribly– going sheet white.

Steve pulled back, sucking softly against the rim as he brought up a finger to circle it. He put his fingers into his mouth quickly, slicking them up before pushing two into Bucky’s body.

Bucky gasped, letting his eyes flutter shut as his muscles worked around the fingers, pulling them and holding them secure inside him. He rocked back and forth against them, breathing out contently as Steve continued to lick around his rim.

Steve turned his fingers around each other inside of Bucky, circling them around and pushing them as far as he could to get Bucky mewling incoherently. He lapped at the boy’s perineum, sucking against it loudly and pressing his beard against it roughly.

“St-e-ve,” Bucky whined out in staccato. “Fuck me…fuck me…please fuck me.”   

Steve continued to swirl his fingers inside Bucky, pushing them up against the boy’s prostate to make him scream.

Bucky jerked back but his skin stuck to the desk, holding him in place. He whimpered pathetically as Steve continued to press kisses against his perineum and caress little circling motions against his prostate.

Bucky’s head was foggy, his nerves sizzling and smoking out into his brain. He was babbling but he had no idea what he was saying, just a slew of vowels and consonants that he wasn’t really sure were considered English or not.

Steve wasn’t moving urgently, he wasn’t even moving aggressively but it was enough to take Bucky apart and make him tremble and mewl. His muscles clenched and relaxed with each pump of Steve’s fingers. He gasped each time Steve touched his prostate and howled when Steve _kept_ caressing against it.

Bucky was getting hot. It was like someone put an oven beneath him and he couldn’t get away. He panted, still incoherently babbling words that he couldn’t think of meanings to. All he knew was Steve’s body, Steve’s heart in that chest and that Bucky knew for absolute certain that it beat in perfect synch with Bucky’s.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Bucky huffed out, lifting his hips as his stomach got unbearably hot. Something thick filled him, pushing back and forth, making him moan out in frequencies he couldn’t quite hear. He could only hear the pounding of his heart, beating against his chest like horses in a valley. He could hear the faint groans and professions of love from Steve’s lips, but he wasn’t sure what language it was in. Sounds floated to Bucky’s ears, slipping between his head and wafting out his skin. He kept rocking back and forth, something pressing into him and pulling away, filling him full and leaving him hollow and alone till it came back to him.

Time left him. His soul left him. His _life_ was forgotten. All he could feel was the pulsing cocoon surrounding him, getting him hotter and hotter, the fizzling sensations lower around his body and that continuing thrust that made him fuller and fuller each time.

He felt something sticky and wet hit his stomach but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was Steve or something else. He wasn’t here. He was floating above them, watching through murky glasses smeared with oil, encased with warmth and electric intensity that sizzled and wavered over his entire existence, hitting him with heat and ice all at once. He shrieked, jerking violently away from Steve and nearly falling from the desk.

Steve pressed against him, holding him to his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was hearing, it was like someone stuck his head beneath the water and Steve was trying desperately to speak through it. He felt fingers in his hair, caressing him and scratching at the nape of his neck softly. He was rocking back and forth, suddenly aware that his limbs were still with him. His toes were cold and he couldn’t move his fingers without a searing ache shooting down his arm.

“Wha–”

“I lost you for a while,” Steve laughed, kissing the side of Bucky’s face. “I didn’t– I’ve never done that to someone before.”

“D’what?” Bucky slurred. His eyes were heavy and all he wanted to do was curl into Steve forever and melt away with him.

“Well, scientifically your body’s sympathetic nervous system floods you with epinephrine and endorphins. You start to feel high, kind of like you’re floating? It’s like a trance.”

“I– I was floating,” Bucky stated, shaking his head slightly. “I’m cold.”

“You’re dropping,” Steve analyzed flatly. “We should get you some blankets and water.”

“Wan’ you t’fuck me.”

“Bucky,” Steve began. “I already did. And it’s not fucking.”

“No you didn’t!” Bucky exclaimed, a sharp sense of panic zinging down his spine.

Steve blinked a few times, sighing through his nose. “I should’ve stopped. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, wait– hold on,” Bucky said, pressing his fingers to Steve’s chest. “You already did?”

Steve squirmed beneath Bucky a little before making a snapping sound as he yanked the used condom off himself. “See?”

Bucky stared at it– milky and certainly used. “Where’d I go?”

“People in the scene call it subspace. Again, it’s just a pinpoint focalization that makes the brain and sympathetic–”

“Dump fancy words into my body, yeah I heard you,” Bucky cut him off. “I’m fuckin’ freezing!”

“I know. You’re body’s dropping the hormone levels now. I need to get you wrapped up in blankets.”

“Don’t want you t’leave me,” Buck begged, curling up into a fetal position in Steve’s naked lap. He felt sad, like he’d just been on a rollercoaster that ended too abruptly. His limbs were shaking and he couldn’t ignore how _cold_ he felt.

“Baby,” Steve cooed, pressing kisses against Bucky’s temple. “Lemme take care of you.”

Bucky whined but he let Steve pick him up and carefully put him into the chair to start putting his briefs and jeans back on. Bucky was trembling, cold seeping into his bones as he watched Steve slip his socks back on and then his shoes. Steve tied them up gently, keeping them loose enough around Bucky’s ankles so they didn’t hurt.

Steve hastily got dressed, shoving his legs back into his jeans and tugging his Henley back on. Bucky had stretched out a few spots on the chest but other than that, it looked decent enough. Steve shoved his feet back into his shoes and scooped Bucky up in his arms.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear as he carried him out of the room.

Bucky pressed his head against Steve’s shoulder, closing his eyes and letting his legs dangle at the man’s sides as Steve supported Bucky by his butt. He barely heard the elevator button ding as he flitted in and out of sleep.

He startled awake when he felt himself being lowered into a bed. He grabbed the guardrails and shot up, breathing heavily.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay. I’m just wrapping you up in some blankets,” Steve explained, holding his palms up to Bucky to placate him.

Bucky gulped back a big breath, nodding. “I feel weird.”

“I know,” Steve whispered as he pulled up a few blankets around Bucky’s shoulders and dropped several more over his legs. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my fault,” Steve explained. “I saw the signs but I didn’t do anything about it. Thought we could handle it.”

“What signs?”

Steve got into the bed with Bucky, letting the boy shimmy over into his arms. “You were unresponsive and not speaking English. I thought it was cause you felt good but then you started shrieking and I knew I went too far.”

“I was shrieking?” Bucky gasped, his round eyes blinking frantically.

“Yeah,” Steve said gravely. “I’m so sorry. I was– proud of myself. I mean, I’ve never made someone feel like that before. I thought I knew how to handle it but that was stupid. It’s not about me handling it. It’s you.”

“And I can’t handle it?” Bucky challenged. “I’m handling it as fine as I can in a hospital.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “It was stupid of me.”

Bucky bit his lip, fighting back the words he _wanted_ to say. This was his body and he could decide for himself how far it could go or what it could handle. He was cold, tired and hungry but he wasn’t _dying_. He wasn’t made of glass left to feel the pressure of the ocean until it was left shattered and imploded. He was sturdier than that.

“Well I liked it,” he finally said. “And I wanna explore it more.”

Steve cringed. “Maybe. I’m not entirely sure if I’m comfortable with us getting into BDSM.”

“I’ve got a bucket list, Steve. Some of that stuff is on it.”

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” Steve requested, kissing Bucky’s face. “I want you to sleep and I’m gonna get an IV drip started on you.”

“What?! Why?” Bucky howled out in protest. His heart jumped up into his throat, making him cough from the sudden outburst.

“Because I just want you healthy, okay? Let me get a damn IV drip in you. It’s just hydration.”

“I can drink a bottle of water,” Bucky sulked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Please let me do this,” Steve pleaded. “It’ll be in for twenty minutes and then we’ll be done.”

“Yeah and I’ll be peeing every two seconds,” Bucky whined.

Steve smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips as he rolled from the bed. “IV drip. Just humor your physician of a boyfriend.”

“I hate you,” Bucky pouted.

“Love you!” Steve sang as he left the room.

* * *

 

Steve was finally calming down from his scare with Bucky going into subspace. He didn’t really explain it fully to Bucky, but there were a lot of natural side-effects when the body dumped such an extreme amount of hormones into the system and then they all rushed out. Bucky was likely to be depressed, irritable and lonely for a few days. So Steve, as he was the one who did it, had a duty to make sure Bucky’s adjustment went back as smooth as possible. The last thing Steve needed was Bucky doing something impulsive that would get him hurt.

He was turning a corner when he saw Sam over by registration for outpatient radiology. He was talking to a couple with a calm face and a soft smile. Good news apparently.

Steve looked back toward the elevator. He should go back. He should spend time with the boy he unceremoniously dropped into subspace and neglected to try to stop it before it got bad. It’s not that subspace was bad. It was quite good, but Bucky shouldn’t have dropped into it. Bucky was emotionally unstable enough. Subspace would only further that by giving him way-too high of highs and way-too low of lows. He cringed, hating himself for bringing Bucky over that edge and letting it go on until the boy was shrieking, screaming damn bloody-murder and jerking so violently away from Steve that he’d fallen off the desk as tears poured from his eyes.

_‘I’m a fucking idiot…’_

Steve waved at Sam when the man looked his way. It was awkward and jerky but what else was he supposed to do at this point? He’d stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, completely unobstructed by walls or people.

Sam came up to him, that wide smile on his face. Steve wondered if he’d still look at him so carefree if Sam knew Steve had been seeing Bucky. He wanted to tell him right there, just let it all dump out like a rushing river.

“Hey uh– what’s up?”

Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“What?” Steve asked, taking a step back and trying desperately to look like he wasn’t panicking under his skin.

“This is your off day. I know. Because I know that when you don’t work the next day, you come out to the bar with me and Bruce and I know that you _didn’t_ come out to the bar with me and Bruce last night…”

“Ah shit,” Steve groaned, pressing his palms up over his eyes. “I’m sorry, I got– I had a thing.”

“A thing huh? He cute? Does this thing have a name?”

“Sam,” Steve began, deflating where he stood. He slumped over his shoulders, haphazardly turning to look over his shoulder. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Sam’s face softened as a concern pooled behind his warm brown eyes.

Steve started walking, knowing full-well that Sam was going to follow. They walked side-by-side in complete silence. Sam’s pager went off a few times, but he ignored it in the elevator. When they got to the pediatrics in-patient wing, Sam halted.

“No,” Sam said.

“What? No what?” Steve exclaimed, feeling his heart twist in his chest as it tried desperately to tug him away from the situation and drop it before it got worse.

“Parker,” Sam breathed out. “Is he? Is he dead?”

It was a sad day when that assumption made Steve feel _better_.

“No. Not yet at least. We’re not sure if he’s on his last leg or not.” Steve looked to his shoes, tapping them against the tile floor.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, blowing a raspberry against his lips.

They continued walking again. Steve couldn’t stop the shiver that ran up and down his spine like scurrying mice. He fidgeted his shoulders as they walked, rubbing his hands up and down his arms as he tried to shake off the strange cold sensation that glued itself to him.

Once they arrived in front of the room where Steve put Bucky, Steve grabbed the doorknob and turned to Sam. “Don’t kill me, okay?”

“Steve, what the fuck did you do?” Sam asked as Steve opened the door.

Sam bolted into the room, his tense eyes looking from Bucky to Steve, then to Bucky again.

“Hi Dr. Wilson,” Bucky said sheepishly. He looked wildly over at Steve but Steve didn’t want to meet his gaze. He couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at his feet.

“Hi Bucky,” Sam said. “Why’re you here again?”

“I came to see Peter,” Bucky explained. “But then me and– Steve?”

“I’m seeing him,” Steve whispered.

Bucky’s teeth clamped shut.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sam inquired, tilting his head to the side as he stared intently at Steve.

“Bucky. I’m seeing Bucky.”

Sam blinked a few times, looking back and forth from Bucky to Steve. “Dude, Bucky’s literally in the bed.”

Bucky started laughing. He grabbed his stomach and dipped his chin against his chest, giggling like a cherub. Steve even found himself smiling.

“He means we’re dating, Dr. Wilson,” Bucky replied, surprisingly confidently. Though, Bucky didn’t need to worry about losing his license to practice medicine or going to jail– that was all on Steve.

Sam turned to Steve, his face completely unreadable. He swallowed thickly before looking down and sucking on his teeth.

“Sam…” Steve attempted, feeling his organs attempt to rearrange themselves.

“Dude,” Sam cut in. “Don’t.”

“It’s legal!” Bucky exclaimed, panic now edging into his voice. “We checked the law. Age of consent is sixteen. I’m seventeen!”

“Dude,” Sam repeated.

Steve slumped his shoulders over, looking desperately at Sam’s angry face. “Sam, I didn’t mean to–”

“Didn’t mean to what? Jeopardize your career? My career? Who else knows? Why the _fuck_ did you think it was a good idea to tell me?!”

Every word was like someone was grating ice and glass up Steve’s body before shoving it all into his throat and forcing him to swallow. Sam was his best friend. Sharon understood, said if it’d been anyone else but Bucky she’d have been pissed, but it was _Bucky_. How did Steve’s best friend not see it too? Or maybe, maybe it was good he didn’t see it that way. Steve was always rushing into things without first really thinking about it. He was always looking for something to prove and Sam– Sam was always his voice of reason. And now Sam was here to provide that voice.

“Sharon Carter and Peter Parker,” Steve whispered. “No one else.”

“Do his parents know?”

“I’m sitting right here,” Bucky sulked, glaring at Sam. “And no they don’t. I said I wasn’t ready for that.”

Sam rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus,” he moaned.

Steve leaned against the wall, trying to press himself into it and cease existing. He’d wanted so badly to bring this relationship into something real. He wanted to show Bucky off. He wanted to be free from worry when they went out on dates. He wanted his support system when the road got tough…

He’d been selfish. Not once did he think about how Sam would feel. He’d have to carry the secret just like Sharon. Sharon was risking her job, just like Steve and now Steve was asking Sam to do the same.

_‘I am the biggest idiot.’_

“How long?” Sam asked, staring at his shoes.

“Couple months,” Bucky answered. “Back when I had that heart-procedure thing.”

“When he had his pericardial effusion,” Steve filled in the blanks.

Sam nodded, pursing his lips in distaste.

Everything Steve felt before, all the longing to share his relationship with others and solidify Bucky’s place in his life, all of it he wanted to take back and gobble it back up. Sharon had basically figured it out on her own but not Sam. Sam had been completely oblivious and from his behavior, he’d liked it that way.

“It was nice seeing you Bucky,” Sam suddenly spoke. “Steve, outside with me.”

Steve looked at Bucky, sucking in his cheeks. He was white as a sheet and his brow practically frozen in worry.

“It’s okay,” Bucky soothed. “We’ll get through this.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled. “I didn’t think–”

“Steve, it’ll be okay,” Bucky pressed, sitting up in the hospital bed. “He’s your friend. He’s gotta understand.”

Steve wasn’t so sure about that. He sucked in his lips, walking away from Bucky and out into the hall. Each step felt like he was walking on tar. His shoulders wouldn’t straighten out even if he tried and his heart weighed heavily against his lungs. He wanted to cry, except he’d done so much of that already he wasn’t sure he had anything left to cry out.

They stayed in complete silence until they made it to the first floor and went out the automatic doors. Sam walked under a gazebo and stared out at the parking lot.

Steve walked behind him like someone had just killed his puppy.

“Imma be very honest right now, Steve,” Sam began. “I don’t give a shit about Bucky’s age or yours. What I give a shit about is _what he’ll do to you_.”

Steve blinked, his lips parting silently as he stared in awe at Sam. Steve was so sure Sam was going to preach about how wrong this was _for Bucky_ and Steve would be lucky if he got to keep his job. His heart slammed to a near stop in his chest as he continued to stare. Thousands of questions filtered through his mind, like noodles in a strainer, too slippery to grab just one.

Sam shook his head, walking over to the railing and leaning over it. “Man, that boy’s a time bomb and I know you don’t wanna hear that. You really wanna go down that route? You know the end to this story.”

Steve quietly moved next to Sam, staring out at the parking lot. Dull colors on dull cars against a dull background of a busy street and a tree line hiding more medical buildings across the way.

“I’m in love with him.”

“Shit. You’re in love with him.” He dropped his head, crossing his arms to press his forehead against them as he leaned on the railing. “You’re as dense as a rock, you know that right?”

“Yup.”

“Irrational, impulsive, idiotic…”

“That too.”

“Emotional, clingy, you worry worse than my momma,” Sam continued.

“Your mom is a wonderful person,” Steve quipped.

“Point proven. You actually love her worrying over you. You know she calls me skinny right? Do I look skinny to you?”

Steve laughed.

“But you love him,” Sam spoke softly, resignation clearing his eyes.

Steve nodded. “More than anything.”

“Clearly.” Sam gestured with an arm toward Steve. “You’re riskin’ your job over this. Your whole career.”

“I’m aware. I worried about that for about a month after I agreed to be his boyfriend.”

“So wait,” Sam laughed. “He came onto you?”

Steve flicked up his brows, nodding. “He was very persuasive.”

“Shit,” Sam elated. “That’s some fucked up shit, man.”

Steve just shrugged. “So, we good?”

“We’re not good. You’ve got a boyfriend that’s gonna tear your heart out and I’m not sure I’ll be enough to keep you afloat, but I’m not running to Rumlow about this. We’re not good, but we’re alright.”

“I wanna start a clinical trial on HIGM patients with Bucky’s strand. I wanna see if we can do something other than force Bucky into liver disease and watch him die.”

Sam held Steve’s gaze, his brow crinkled in the middle as he looked on with a guarded face.

Steve shuffled on his feet, broadening his shoulders. He’d started researching it. He had an introduction ready for a grant proposal but other than that, he wasn’t too far into it, but he wanted to be. Patients with the CD40L deficiency were rare and because they were rare, their condition wasn’t as researched as other patients with more common forms of HIGM. Bucky’s treatments consisted of pumping him full of medication and occasional evaluations of his liver which would start getting more and more frequent as he got older. If cancer didn’t get Bucky, liver disease would. If he somehow missed liver disease, he’d die of an infection he didn’t even know he had. Steve didn’t want to see that. If there was any way to see patients like Bucky survive, Steve was going to try. It was worth it to try.

“You realize a clinical trial won’t save Bucky right? You’d be making him Patient Zero. Patient Zero never survives.”

Steve groaned in anger, flinging his hands up in defeat. “I gotta do something, Sam! I can’t– I can’t sit there and watch Bucky die.”

“You might not have a choice.”

“He won’t be my test subject. Besides, I’ve gotta start on mice before I start human trials.”

“And what if Bucky dies before your work’s completed? You throw in the towel?” Sam questioned, cocking a brow.

“No. Bucky wouldn’t want that. He’d want others like him to survive.”

Sam nodded, licking his lips. “Okay. When do we start?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my [tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)  
> I hate myself for using that line.  
> You know which line I'm talking about.  
> You know.  
> Y o u k n o w  
> (But if you really don't know it's the very last line of the chapter, like it was the very last line of CA:TWS)  
> XD  
> Unfortunately, I had no gifs for sexual inspiration this time because apparently it's irrationally hard to find men sucking each other's dicks at the same time (in gif form). Sad right?


	8. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left!! ahhhh!

Steve grimaced as he walked down the little aisles with Sharon and Sam. He’d spent most of his days out in the garden now, yanking and prying out weeds and bushes. His neighbors stopped by to watch him work a few times, surprised that his unruly garden was finally getting a facelift. He was beginning to wonder if the sunburn on his shoulders and upper back was worth it. He always turned into a lobster in too much sun.

“What about this one?” Sharon asked as she held up a little gray gnome. They were here to find some accent pieces for the garden. Steve was even planning on putting a wishing pond in for Bucky as a surprise. 

He hadn’t realized the amount of time revamping the front garden would be and in a frenzy, he’d called both Sharon and Sam and the three eventually took over where Bucky couldn’t be anymore. Steve bought the flowers with Bucky, but with Peter’s condition, Bucky was constantly at the hospital. His parents even came to visit once. So instead of working on the garden together, Steve was going to make the garden a surprise for Bucky.

Unfortunately with the amount of time Bucky was at the hospital, it’d started a fight. His parents wanted Bucky to come home; rightfully fearful their son might get sick. Bucky absolutely refused to leave Peter’s side. Peter wasn’t alone anymore. Wade Wilson kept showing up every day, but Bucky was adamant about staying with his best friend. 

So without Steve’s helper, he was left alone to weed and put down new mulch. He’d been worried the baby plants and seeds would die, but luckily Sharon dug out a little corner in the backyard and just shoved them all into the ground in the meantime. She said they’d have to carry some of that dirt out to the front garden but Steve didn’t care. His backyard was nothing special. 

“It’s a garden gnome,” Sam evaluated. “Like, a straight up, red-nosed garden gnome.” 

“It’s cute!” Sharon defended. 

“Eh,” Steve said, eyeing it. “It’s tacky. Bucky wants it to be like a fantasy world.” 

“Gnomes are fantasy!” 

“They’re cliché,” Sam concluded. “What about this?” He pointed to a few smoothed down moonstones. “They could be walkways through the garden and lead up to the pond.”

“I like that,” Steve said, picking up one of the slabs and watching the metallic colors change beneath the sun. 

“This is really neat, Steve.” Sharon playfully bumped her shoulder against Steve’s arm. “Bucky’ll love it.”

“Yeah, just wish we could’ve done this together.” He picked up a few slabs of the moonstones and gently set them in the cart. 

“Bucky picked out all the flowers, right?” Sam asked. “He helped.” 

“But it was supposed to be  _ our  _ project, ya’know? Something we’d look out the dining room window and say, “Hey, we did that together!” 

“You are such a sap,” Sharon lamented. She sighed dramatically before going over to the sundials. 

Steve walked down the aisle with the wind chimes. He reached up, gently brushing his fingers against the chimes to bring about their songs. 

“So, Tony thinks our grant could make some headway,” Sam hedged, coming up beside Steve. “You about ready to pitch it to Rumlow?”

Steve clicked his tongue, deciding between a rosegold wind chime or one made from bamboo. Would he get annoyed with the chimes always ringing with the breeze?

“Steve, dude.” 

“I dunno. I just–” Steve turned to Sam, curving in his chest. “I want it to be right. I’m so fuckin’ scared I’ll mess up and blow my chance.” 

“I’ll be right there with you. You start blubberin’ and I’ll save you,” Sam offered with a smile. “I’m the charm anyway.”

Steve snorted, deciding on the bamboo chimes. He’d officially decided he’d like a jungle fantasy theme in his front yard. Maybe he’d find a cool looking tiger statue.

“You’re avoiding the proposal and focusing way too hard on this garden,” Sam stated. His eyes were flat as he sported judgmental pursed lips. 

He wasn’t wrong, Steve was avoiding it. After Peter’s condition started to go really south, it was like Steve’s whole world was wobbling on its axis. Nothing felt certain and everything felt just a tiny bit  _ off _ . Bucky was healthy, but for how long? Steve’s research could genuinely make a difference in Bucky’s life, or if not in his, in another child’s life with HIGM. Steve could be the deciding factor on changing that 20% survival rate to something higher. It was a lot of pressure. He wanted to do it right. The thought of getting a rejected proposal would shatter him. He could try again, but he’d be plagued with self-doubt. 

“I  _ really _ want this,” Steve explained, turning to Sam. “Like, if we get rejected, I- I dunno. I’ll do– I’ll freak out or something.”

“No, you’ll amend it, get back at it, and go in front of Rumlow and the Board again. You won’t back down.” Sam’s eyes were stern and Steve could see him clenching his jaw. 

“I just wanna get approved and build Bucky a nice garden. That’s all I want.” 

“Yeah and then what? Revamp the master bedroom? Install a new sink? Him and him?”

Steve glared, his lips twisting up angrily. “What the fuck’s your deal?”

“My deal is you, man!” Sam hissed under his breath. “You’re so attached to this kid. And that’s great, that’s fine. But you can’t get cold feet on this proposal. Bucky’s counting on it and now you’ve got me in it balls deep too.” 

“I’m not backing out!” Steve wailed, pushing the cart along with a bit more force than necessary. It clattered loudly as it rolled over the uneven concrete flooring. “I just wanna be thorough! Look, I’ve gotten maybe three hours of sleep this week and the last time I saw Bucky, it was the day we told you.”

“Someone needs to get laid,” Sharon casually said as she walked by. She’d gotten a cart of her own and it was almost full. Steve stared at it, aghast with his mouth hanging open. 

Sam used his pointer finger to gently push Steve’s mouth closed before laughing. “Blue balls, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” Steve griped, resting his elbows on the cart as he continued to slowly go down the aisle. “Help me find a way to casually tell Sharon that I’m not buying all of that.”

 

* * *

 

Steve bought absolutely everything Sharon had in her cart. They stood in front of Steve’s old brownstone, staring up at it as the sun reflected off the top two windows. They all had bring a hand over their eyes to keep the glare from becoming blinding. 

“I think this is going to be adorable,” Sharon said proudly. 

“I hate you,” Steve grumbled. “So does my wallet.” 

“But Bucky’s gonna love it.” She started to walk around the garden, tracing her finger along the iron gate. “This thing needs painting. It’s chipping.”

“The whole house needs work if ya ask me,” Sam added, cocking a brow at Steve.

“Oh come on! He ain’t movin’ in!”

“Oh-hooh!” Sam laughed. “Listen to that accent!” 

“We’re pissing him off,” Sharon commented, a smug smile on her pink lips. “Steve, c’mere.” 

Steve begrudgingly moved over to Sharon. She got behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. 

“Okay, now imagine the wishing pond over there in the corner.” She moved his shoulders, twisting his body slightly. “Now picture the lilies all piled high back there with the dahlias. They’ll grow tall. Now you’ve got the moonstone walkway curving along with the flower beds till you come to here!” She pushed him along, standing right atop a dead bush. Or maybe it was supposed to be that brown. 

“Now we put a small little swing with a canopy here. We’ll string up some Christmas lights along down the arms and along the canopy.” She then pushed him further to the cracked old concrete walkway. He hated how right she was about all of this. “Now we’ll replace the concrete with red pebbles and over on  _ that  _ side, we’ll put a Sakura tree and the tiger statue with a bird bath– and, clear out all shit– whatever that used to be.  _ Then  _ we’ll circle the moonstones along to the back gate and string up some lights in the tree too.”

“It’s not Christmas.” 

“It’s a fantasy  _ garden _ , Steve!” Her tone was a low growl and Steve wasn’t going to fight her on this.  

She opened the large wooden gate to the backyard. 

“Uh, why’re we going back here?” Steve asked, cocking a brow.

Sam snorted behind him. “You gave a woman free reign on revamping your yard. What’d you expect?”

Steve turned back around, his brows furrowed as he allowed himself to be pushed into the backyard. 

“This place is a dump. We’ll start by teaching you how to use a  _ lawnmower _ and then we’ll put a small garden in the back-right, lined with stones. Just a small one. We’ll put the hammock closer to it and then plant a willow tree.” 

“I’m also buying you a new grill,” Sam added, leaning against the privacy fence.

“Guys,” Steve began, his eyes round. He had his hands out in front of him like he was trying to placate lions. “Th-this is– um. This is a lot. Bucky just–”

“Bucky needs to be surrounded by positive vibes and a  _ clean _ atmosphere. This house is seriously neglected,” Sharon said. She leaned her weight to one side, crossing her arms.

“I updated the bathroom!” 

“Three years ago,” Sam whispered. 

Steve glared at him.

Sharon wrapped her hand around Steve’s wrist, looking up at him with big eyes. “What about when you bring him to live with you? You really want him getting bit by ticks because you can’t remember to cut your grass?”

“Not to mention,” Sam added. “It’s harder to pick up your dog’s shit when the grass is too long. And shit breeds bacteria, and what does bacteria do?” Sam’s eyes widened as he contorted his face into over-exaggerated shock. “Oh yeah! It’ll give a boy with HIGM a fucking  _ infection _ !” 

Steve stumbled back, catching himself on the fence. He looked between his friends, his mouth open unintelligently. His heart was clamoring up his throat and no matter how hard he tried, words wouldn’t formulate on his tongue. They were ratifying this house– because they believed Steve had a future with Bucky. That in itself was a gesture Steve could never repay. Their kindness was never-ending. Their patience unwavering. Their friendship– irreplaceable. 

“Y-you think he could? I mean– live with me?”

The two looked to each other before they both started chuckling. 

“He’ll be eighteen before you know it,” Sharon said with a smile.

“They grow up so fast,” Sam teased, putting his hand against his forehead and one over his heart.

“Okay wise-asses,” Steve answered flatly. “Let’s get back to killing my spine.” 

“I could always shove an epidural in your lumbar region,” Sharon supplied as the trio went back to the front of the house. 

Steve laughed. He’d almost dismissed the thought until he looked at the twelve bags of mulch and the rest of the bushes and weeds still needing to be removed. 

“Ya know what,” Steve said, his hands on his hips. “You may need to.”

 

* * *

 

“Steve,” Bucky whined. “Steve!” He poked at Steve’s ribs, his finger jabbing painfully between the bones. “ _ Steve! _ ”

“Buuuuckyyy,” Steve moaned in exasperation. He refused to open his eyes. He’d spent twelve hour days out in the garden and now he was spending fourteen hour days in the hospital. He’d nap on breaks. He’d nap when he was supposed to be reading test results. He was pretty sure he could nap in the elevator if he really wanted to. Sharon was a ruthless landscaper, but she’d been right. The garden was starting to come together beautifully. 

Steve was on wishing pond duty tonight. He’d have to dig out the measurements that Sam had painted into the dirt and lay the tarp down. He was seriously doubting his stamina. Sharon would kill him. 

_ ‘Why did I do this again?’ _

“Steve!” Bucky exclaimed, tugging on Steve’s arm. “Pay attention to me!”

Steve rolled over on the hospital bed, staring up at Bucky. He would wring his neck if he didn’t love him so much. After hours of lifting, dumping, and yanking, followed by restless nights in a cold bed, he just wanted to sleep! But Bucky’d grown accustomed to Steve always hanging around when he was on break. ‘Peter Watch’ became a designated  _ thing _ (according to Wade) and since Wade was down in the cafeteria, it was Steve and Bucky’s turn. At least Wade finally convinced Bucky to go home every now and then. The last thing Steve needed was for Bucky to land himself back in the hospital with MRSA. 

“I hate you,” Steve grumbled, his eyes still closed. “So much.”

“Lies.” Bucky nipped at Steve’s nose. “You love me.”

“Eh.”

“ _ Adore _ me.”

“Meh.” Steve brought the crook of his elbow over his eyes to block out the sun behind his eyelids. 

“You’re crazy about me!” Bucky laughed, slinging a leg over Steve to straddle him. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s arm and jaw along his beard. “Love me, love me, love me!” 

Steve finally opened his eyes. He groaned through a smile, pulling Bucky into his arms. He wrapped his legs around the squealing boy, flipping them to the side. 

Bucky squirmed like a little worm, trying desperately to get out of Steve’s hold.

“Mmm, sleep,” Steve mumbled, resting his head atop Bucky’s. 

“No! I wasn’t even over last night!” 

“I know!” Steve commiserated, tickling at Bucky’s sides.

Bucky shrieked, yanking violently as he tried to get away from Steve to no avail. He laughed right into Steve’s ear, making his eardrums ring. 

Steve curled around Bucky again, shimming his way down the boy’s body until he was using his chest as a pillow. “Hate sleepin’ alone,” Steve said into Bucky’s chest. 

Bucky’s arms wrapped around him, his body finally stilling. He threaded his fingers into Steve’s hair. They lay silently. Bucky’s ministrations soothing Steve to the verge of sleep. 

Steve was warm in Bucky’s arms, nuzzled up safe into his boy’s chest. He hummed on each exhale as warmth soaked into his bones. 

“You really are tired,” Bucky analyzed. He started scratching at the base of Steve’s skull.

“Oh  _ God _ , please baby don’t stop,” Steve all but moaned. 

Bucky snorted, his hand never stilling. It dipped along the hairline and his nails glided over the back of Steve’s neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I love you so much,” Steve whispered. He shivered lightly from goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“I know,” Bucky responded. “Whatcha been doin’ that’s got you so tired?”

“Nnn, surprise,” Steve mumbled. “You’ll see.” 

“I miss sleepin’ over,” Bucky said, his breath hot at Steve’s ear. 

Steve smiled, shivering in delight. Peter was asleep (or he hoped he was) on the other side of the room, Sharon was Peter’s assigned nurse, so Steve didn’t have to worry about any other nurse coming in and seeing him and Bucky like this. Bucky’s parents knew  _ exactly _ where he was because for once, they weren’t lying or stretching the truth. Wade was getting Peter more active. It wasn’t all bad. Bucky was healthy. There was still a sliver of hope for Peter. Steve had a fantastical garden growing in his yard with the assistance of his closest friends. He finally began to consider Sharon a best friend. Things could’ve been worse. He had to count his blessings somewhere. 

“I love you,” he whispered before finally falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

When Steve woke, Sharon was over with Wade as she took Peter’s vitals. Bucky was still stretched out under Steve, but his big eyes were open and staring intently at Peter. Steve blinked a few times, looking down at his watch. He’d been asleep for an hour.

“Oh shit,” he grumbled, detangling himself from Bucky. 

Bucky whimpered but he made no gesture to grab at Steve. 

Steve straightened out his tie and smoothed out his white lab coat before walking over to Sharon. He looked over her shoulder, watching Peter’s blood pressure steady out. 

“You’ve got drool in your beard,” Sharon teased before taking the cuff off Peter. 

“You snore,” Wade stated. “Did you know that?”

“Ha. Ha,” Steve retorted. “How’s he doing?”

“No, seriously. I don’t think you realize how serious I’m being. I know, shocking. But I’m  _ serious _ .”

Steve stared at Wade, a look of astonishment plastered on his face. 

Sharon and Peter just giggled. 

“I do not snore!” Steve protested. “Bucky, do I snore?!” 

Bucky just dipped his chin, a tiny smile flirting with his lips. 

“Oh my God, I snore,” Steve admitted as he collapsed onto the rolling stool. 

“But it’s cute!” Bucky said as he crawled off the bed and over to everyone. He scooted onto the foot of the bed, offering up a supporting smile. 

“No it’s not,” Wade retorted. 

Steve wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. It was bad enough that his boyfriend had never told him, but for a group of people to witness– no–  _ hear _ it. That was something else. Mortified, Steve’s face flushed red. 

“It’s cute,” Bucky supplied, reaching out to grab Steve’s hand. “I swear it’s cute.” 

“Eeehh,” Wade drawled. “I mean, if you think a rhino with a head cold is cute but hey, I don’t kinkshame.” 

“Wade!” Peter protested through a weak laugh. “You’re such a jerk.” 

Wade offered the brightest smile Steve had ever seen at Peter. He scooted closer once Sharon got out of the way, jotting notes in Peter’s chart. 

Wade grabbed Peter’s hand, clasping it in his own. “Yeah well.” He gave Peter’s hand a tiny squeeze. “I almost died. I get a free pass.” 

“Alright, your vitals look good, Peter. You’re pretty stable. I’ll be back in thirty minutes, okay?” Sharon asked as she dropped Peter’s chart back into the holder at the foot of the bed. 

“Thank you,” Peter said politely, but his eyes never left Wade’s face.

Steve wondered– about them. They understood each other. Shared life experience, closer in age than Steve was with Bucky, and they had the same sarcastic humor. If Peter was healthier, Steve wouldn’t be surprised if Wade was asking him out on all the dates Peter never got to have. 

Then again, would Peter want someone who looked like Wade? Or could he look past all the scars? They were left from the cancer, a constant reminder of Wade’s battles with a disease that almost took his life. Steve was there– he knew how close it’d gotten. Peter was a sweet boy. His intelligence was refreshing in someone so young. Steve liked to think that if Peter was healthier that he’d be going out on dates left and right with Wade. Maybe– maybe one day. 

Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand, smiling up at him knowingly. 

Steve leaned in, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s. 

As Bucky was starting to slink down into Steve’s lap, the door opened. He bolted upright and scrambled as awkwardly as he could to the floor before whirling around. 

Steve was still on the stool, his eyes wide– mouth dropped open as he replayed Bucky’s speed over and over. Had it been fast enough? Was this it? Was this when they took him away with news cameras rolling? 

Bucky’s parents walked into the room, Winifred with her large smile and sad eyes and George with his permanently creased brow and receding hairline. 

“Mom, Dad…” Bucky gasped, stepping even further back from Steve. “What’re you doing?”

“We came to check on Peter,” Winifred explained as she pulled a stuffed bear out from behind her. Steve recognized it as the ones from the gift shop on the first floor. He looked over to George, watching the man’s stoic expression. There wasn’t a single clue on that man’s face if he’d seen his son trying to crawl into Steve’s arms or not. 

Sharon even seemed to be caught off-guard. She stood at the foot of the bed, her mouth opening and closing– face beet red. 

“Hey!” Wade greeted, waving. “I’m Wade. Peter n’ Bucky’s friend. We didn’t get a chance to meet last time.”

Steve cocked a brow, watching George look at Wade’s scarring. 

“Nice to meet you, Wade,” Winifred lilted, reaching her hand out to take Wade’s. She only paused for a second when she finally saw all the scars on his hands. 

“S’quite a party in here,” George evaluated, his bushy brows heavy against his eyes. “Do any of you ever let Peter rest?”

“Uh,” Sharon went to answer.

Steve stood up, nodding to Sharon that he’d take it from here. As far as he knew, it didn’t seem like Bucky’s parents had seen anything. He’d celebrate with a whole bottle of Jim Bean later. Right now, he needed to get back onto the floor before Dr. Rumlow skinned him alive. 

“Mrs. Barnes, Mr. Barnes. It’s really nice to see you again,” Steve said, offering out his hand to shake each of theirs. “We were just checking up on Peter’s vitals and getting ready to head out.”

“Checkin’ vitals, doc?” George asked, cocking a brow. “Anyone ever tell you you’re the most dedicated doctor around? No wonder our son wanted you.”

_ ‘Oh among other things…’ _

Steve smiled, a light blush dusting across his cheeks. He ushered Sharon over to the door, leaving the boys behind. 

“We’re a very committed hospital,” Sharon replied, nudging Steve softly. 

“Oh yeah,” Steve added. “I wouldn’t trade this job for the world.” That was a lie now. He’d trade it in a second for Bucky. 

Winifred smiled again. Her lips were similar to Bucky’s. She’d be beautiful if she didn’t have such sorrowful eyes– full of worry and age. 

“We’ll be back to check on Peter later,” Steve said, ushering Sharon out the door.

Once they were out in the hall, he heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

“You’re so awkward.” Sharon laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“You try seeing your boyfriend’s parents walk in as he’s trying to crawl into your lap and then we’ll talk.” 

She reached up, scratching her fingers through his beard, smiling. “You’re so cute when you’re in love.”

Steve’s brows raised. 

“I like you in love.” She turned toward the nurses station. “You’re such an awkward mess.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, turning in the opposite direction. He had lab results to check on and a proposal paper to finish up.

 

* * *

 

“But HIGM can be treated,” Rumlow said as he sat at the head of the long conference table. “Blood transfusions extend life expectancy and in some cases even reverse the HIGM.”

“Yeah, but that’s standard strands. We’d like to focus specifically on CD40L deficiency. Blood transfusions are essentially a Band-Aid and we’re slowly poisoning these kids’ livers. Plus the chances of cancer skyrocket the older they get,” Steve explained, pointing back to his powerpoint. “Not to mention pneumonia is a death sentence as well.” 

Sam finally cornered him into making the presentation. They’d been ready for a few weeks now but each time Steve thought of finally pitching for the grant, he broke out into a sweat and started shaking. He’d even thrown himself into a small asthma attack a few nights ago. But now he was here and there wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head, his beard was combed and he fielded questions and brought up counterarguments like he’d been studying Bucky’s disease since med school.

“So you want the board to award you a starting grant of $50,000 for a disease that has a 20% survival rate.”

“AIDS was a death sentence too. Before funding and awareness,” Sam offered.

“But HIGM doesn’t have the publicity that AIDS has,” Rumlow added. “HIGM isn’t wide-spread. It’s a rare disease that has little to no presence in laypersons’ awareness.” 

“You’re saying we should only research cancer and AIDS because they’re– popular?" Steve countered. "20% survival rate outside of age 25. Once they hit 25, there’s a 75% they’ll get liver complications and die. That’s a death sentence.” 

Rumlow tapped his pen on the papers before him. Steve’s papers. He’d handed out a copy to each member of the board and he’d spent countless hours on this project. He could recite that paper like the back of his hand and now it all came down to this. Publicity and what press the hospital would receive. 

“We’ve got a patient here with HIGM,” Sam said. “He’s 17 and relatively healthy. We haven’t approached him yet, but he could be a patient zero for this. If we found a cure for HIGM? We could revolutionize pediatric medicine and everyone loves a happy ending for a story about kids.” 

Steve’s mouth dropped open. He’d never wanted to ask Bucky to be patient zero. Not to mention that they were years away from testing anything on human subjects. He couldn’t stop what Sam was saying though. If the board thought a patient zero was the tipping point between the grant and losing this chance, Steve would have to cross that bridge when they got there. And Sam was right– the media loved a happy ending when it came to children.

“Not to mention HIGM is an autoimmune disease akin to AIDS,” Steve input. “Any understanding of HIGM could help AIDS researchers as well.” 

Rumlow smirked, nodding. He sat back, gesturing to the board. “Well. I’ve made my decision. Do we need a break?” 

The board mumbled their agreement to just keep going.

“I say yes,” Rumlow said. “Who doesn’t love a happy ending for children?” 

Steve smiled, feeling his heart flutter. He looked expectantly at the faces of the board, licking his lips. Sam shifted beside him, a twitch of a smile on his face. 

“Answer me this, doctors,” a female member of the board began, leaning forward. “Do you think you could actually find a cure on $50,000? Or is that only the beginning of the funding?”

“We don’t have enough data to properly answer the question,” Steve answered. “But I’m not against campaigning. Maybe reaching out to politicians to spread awareness. Do awareness drives?”

She sat back, her face displeased. “I vote no.”

Steve’s throat turned to sandpaper. He looked pleadingly at Sam, searching those big brown eyes for reassurance. Sam just nodded at him.

The board went around to give their vote. 

At the end the tally was seven for the grant and five against it. Majority won. 

Steve smiled, shaking everyone’s hand and pulling Rumlow into a bear hug. He’d never hugged his chief physician before. 

Rumlow patted his back, whispering congratulations into his ear. 

Steve maintained composure until he was back in the physicans’ locker room. He jumped on Sam, whooping and hollering excitedly. 

“Sam! Sam we did it! We fuckin’ did it!” 

“Jesus!” Sam laughed, catching Steve and spinning him around. “See I told your dumb ass!” 

“Holy fucking shit I’m gonna puke!” Steve elated as Sam put him back down.

“Please don’t. I like my shoes.”

“Holy fuck, Sam,” Steve said, grabbing the man’s collar. “We did it. I– I can’t believe it.” Steve’s fingers felt like they were on fire. His whole body was vibrating and all he wanted to do was laugh. Lack of sleep, poor nutrition and a complete absence of his usual schedule didn’t mean anything to Steve right now. They’d gotten the grant. The board approved of  _ their _ research. Bucky… Bucky’s disease could have a shot at finally getting the real attention it needed. 

Steve pulled Sam into a hug, feeling tears wet his lashes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Sam returned the hug, pulling Steve in close. “No problem big guy.” 

Steve pulled back, his smile plastered on his face despite the tears that shined in his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell Bucky.” 

“You tellin’ him like we talked about?” Sam asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah. I haven’t been slaving over that garden for nothing.”

“Good. Because I’d punch you if you ruined all our work.”

Steve pulled Sam into another hug, laughing loudly into the man’s ear. 

“Okay, okay!” Sam pretended to protest, but he returned the hug just as tightly as the one before. “Go kiss your boyfriend and stop hangin’ on me!” 

Steve pulled away, giving a lazy salute before jogging down the hall to Peter’s room. Bucky kept asking him why he was smiling so much, but Steve just kept shrugging. 

Somehow, some way. Things were starting to really starting to turn out okay. 

Steve just prayed it’d last.

 

* * *

 

“Steve!” Bucky gasped as Steve pulled over to reveal a blindfold from the glove compartment. “I didn’t know you were into this!” 

“Oh hush,” Steve laughed, tying the blindfold around Bucky’s eyes gently. “It’s just a surprise.” He tucked a stray hair behind Bucky’s ear, his heart fluttering at how the fabric really enhanced Bucky’s cheekbones. 

“Are you gonna get naked? Am I gonna have to guess what’s in my mouth?”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Jesus! No! We’re using a blindfold for its intended purpose!” 

Bucky’s lips drooped and he huffed. “So vanilla.”

“You don’t even know what that means,” Steve countered as he pulled back into the stream of traffic. 

“It means boring sex with boring positions. Missionary and doggy and maybe a little cowboy if we’re feeling excited.” 

Steve looked over at Bucky, his mouth hanging open, ready to protest until he realized… That’s everything they’d ever done. “Wait! What about that time you gave me a blowjob in a theater?”

Bucky laughed. Steve loved how it sounded like the wind chimes that swayed in his front yard. 

“See, not so vanilla now, right?”

“Steve, you’re painfully vanilla,” Bucky replied, his red lips in a little smirk. “But I love you for it.” 

“I’m not vanilla,” Steve protested. “I’m more like… strawberry. Still classic but with a dash of adventure.” 

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Okay strawberry man. Where’re we goin?”

Steve felt jittery all over. The garden was finally complete and after a month of work, it looked like it belonged in a magazine. He’d even had a few people stop to take pictures of it. The maintenance would kill him but he’d do it just to see Bucky happy. 

“You’ll see,” Steve answered knowingly. “It’s a surprise.” 

“I swear if you’re gonna show me your bed sprinkled with roses and candles, I’m gonna revoke your strawberry card and you’ll be back to vanilla. That’s also hella vanilla.”

“You were a virgin before me! What is this?! I feel so attacked!” Steve laughed as he turned onto his street to look for a place to park. 

“I’ve got a very important bucket list and you keep avoiding the more exciting shit. Where are we going?!”

“Just hang on a minute!” Steve pinched Bucky’s nipple, laughing when Bucky shrieked out in delight. 

He helped Bucky out of the car and then led him by the arm down the short block and a half to the house. It was going on sunset so the lights on the swing and the tree could be seen, but Steve couldn’t wait for the night to  _ really _ show that off. He even installed a little surprise in the wishing pond, a pretty blue light that’d cast deep shadows against the coy fish he’d stocked into the pond. 

Bucky was squirming against Steve’s side, positively beaming as Steve led him along. He continued to nuzzle into Steve, pressing his face up against Steve’s biceps. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too,” Steve answered, placing a quick kiss to Bucky’s head. “Stand here.” He positioned Bucky right in front of the gurgling wishing pond.

“That’s water,” Bucky stated, biting his lips shyly. “Right?”

“You’ll see.” Steve moved behind Bucky to untie the blindfold. He let the fabric slip from Bucky’s face and watched with bated breath as Bucky’s gray eyes took in the scene.

Bucky first looked down to the wishing pond before spinning on his heel and looking out over the garden. He let out the tiniest gasp that got Steve’s heart melting. His fingers came to press against his lips and then he was falling to his knees. Tears streamed from his eyes as he reached out to touch one of the velvety petals of a rose. 

Steve bit his lip, trying not to smile too big as he watched the love of his life show so much emotion that it was hard not to burst out into tears with him.

Bucky’s shoulders were trembling, but the smile on his lips meant everything to Steve. Tears framed that smile, shinning against the soft sunset. 

Steve walked around Bucky, kneeling in front of him. “I’ve got somethin’ to tell you.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened, but it served to only spill more tears. 

“I got the grant to research your strand. We’re gonna beat this. I’m not gonna let anything take you away from me.” 

Bucky froze, his eyes so round and shiny that it was as if he was made of glass, fragile and perfectly sculpted. His lips twitched, tongue dancing along them. 

“I love you,” Steve whispered, bringing Bucky’s silently form into him.

Bucky’s fingers curled into Steve’s hair, his chest heaving as he sobbed into Steve’s neck. 

They stayed like that. Steve watching the sun slowly go down behind the buildings of Brooklyn with Bucky’s fingers curling and twisting in his hair before cupping around the back of his neck. Bucky continued to cry, words still unable to form. He pulled at Steve, pressing himself as firmly as possible to the larger man. 

Steve didn’t dare break the moment. He didn’t dare keep babbling or talking. This was perfect. This made all the aches, pains and sleepless nights worth it. This made his entire  _ existence _ worth it. He’d been merely going through life, existing but not living. He thought he was okay with it. He thought he was happy. He struggled with relationships but he thought that’s how the world was supposed to be. He thought he could go it alone– and then he’d met Bucky. 

He’d met Bucky and everything changed. Bucky became the sun that cast away the shadows. He became the heat that enveloped Steve from the cold. He became the blood that flowed into Steve’s heart and he became the purpose that Steve’s lungs continued to breathe. 

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, his voice hoarse. “N-no one’s ever– this is– I can’t believe this.” 

Steve just pressed a kiss to Bucky’s wet cheek, humming. 

“You did all this?” Bucky asked, looking around the garden. The Christmas lights were shining more as the sky was painted with deep blues and purples, the sun just barely hanging in the sky now. 

“I had help,” Steve admitted. “Sharon and Sam.” 

Bucky’s brow pinched up like a puppy’s. He smiled softly, his shoulders slumping. “They really support us.” 

Steve nodded. 

Bucky pushed out a breath, looking about the garden. “It really is a fantasy world.” 

“I made it for you.” 

Bucky nodded, grazing his hands over some of the flowers that seemed to reach up to him, eager for his affections. 

“If my life has to run out of fortunate moments, I’m glad I was at least fortunate to meet you.” 

Steve’s brow twitched, his lips dropping into discomfort. “Don’t say things like that.” 

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. “I’m hopeful, don’t get me wrong. But I’m still a realist.” 

Steve nodded, his throat sticky as he tried to swallow the anguish that build up in his stomach. He had the funding now. He had the research available to him. He could find a way to get Bucky to start really believing they had a chance at a life together. 

“You wanna see the backyard too?” Steve asked. “Cap’s been dyin’ to get into the flowers back there. I dunno how long it’ll last.” 

Bucky’s mouth dropped open. “You did the back too?”

“I want my home safe for you,” Steve explained. “No ticks, no fleas. Nothing that could hurt you.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he let Steve pull him up to his feet. They walked to the backyard, Bucky pressed up against Steve with Steve’s arm tight around his shoulders. 

The backyard wasn’t as magnificent as the front, but the willow tree was new and Bucky instantly honed in on the little flower garden in the corner. He dropped to the hammock, staring up at the darkening sky. 

“Join me.” 

Steve lay next to Bucky on the hammock, their fingers finding each other and lacing together. 

“You’re the best thing in my life,” Bucky breathed out. “The best.”

“Same with you,” Steve said. 

“But you’re still terribly vanilla,” Bucky joked, giving Steve’s hand a little squeeze. 

Steve just flicked up his brows briefly before staring up at the night sky. The lights from the city blotted out the stars, but he could still pretend. He had everything he needed right here anyway. 

“At least vanilla is a popular choice,” Steve conceded. “Everyone likes vanilla.” 

Bucky snorted. 

“So you like your garden?” Steve asked, turning to Bucky.

Bucky turned his head, scooting closer till their foreheads were touching. “I love it.” 

“Good. Cause you’re gonna have to take care of it one day.”

Bucky’s brows rose up.

“You know, when you move in.” 

“When I– move in?” 

“When you’re eighteen. I can’t be your primary physician at the hospital anymore, but that’s okay. You’ll be out of peds. I can still be a consultant though. But yeah, when you’re eighteen– and if you want. I’d like if you moved in with me.” 

Bucky rolled over, swaying the hammock gently as he pressed his weight atop Steve. He leaned down, slotting his lips against Steve’s. It was a soft kiss. Slow– with all the time in the world. They breathed into each other, their noses bumping softly. Their tongues barely found each other, but when they did, Steve got a little jolt that sent jitters all up and down his nerves. 

“I’ve got all those stupid things on that bucket list,” Bucky whispered, his lips still against Steve’s. “All that shit I wanted to do. It’s all so childish.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. He’d respond, but Bucky kept going. 

“I don’t need that. I don’t need you blowin’ me on a Ferris wheel or handcuffs. I don’t need anything but vanilla.” 

Steve smiled, wrapping his arms around Bucky, locking him into place atop him. 

“Vanilla’s the best flavor in the whole world,” Bucky whispered before pressing down for another soft and unhurried kiss.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke to seven missed calls, twelve text messages and four emails. Groggily, he flipped open his missed call list, reading over the names. Sharon. Sharon. Sharon. Sharon. Sam. Sam. Rumlow. He checked his calendar, frantic that he’d accidently skipped a shift at work.

Bucky was pressed against his side, naked and warm, his slender hand rising and falling with Steve’s stomach. 

Steve then opened the text messages. Sam’s name first with a message in all caps. 

**BUCKY’S PARENTS ARE HERE! THEY KNOW HE’S NOT HERE!!**

Steve’s heart stalled in his chest, sputtering. He started coughing, violently rousing Bucky from his sleep. 

“St-Steve?” Bucky gasped, watching as Steve tore out of bed, his chest heaving.

He felt boxed in. His lungs burned as he wheezed for air and his toes turned to ice. Bucky’s parents were at the hospital. Bucky’s parents were at the  _ hospital _ .

Bucky  _ wasn’t _ at the hospital. 

Panic set in like a shot of epinephrine to the heart. Steve’s nerves cried out, shrieking so loud he could hear them in his ears. He stumbled back, collapsing to the floor. His breath came in short hiccups and he was clawing at his throat. He couldn’t calm down. Images of himself being carted off to jail, his face plastered on all the news stations. It was all happening so fast and Steve wasn’t sure what to do. He half contemplated taking Bucky and making their way to Jersey but that was  _ kidnapping _ and that was certainly a federal offense. 

“Steve!” Bucky exclaimed, dropping to his knees with Steve’s asthma medicine. He wedged the apparatus between Steve’s lips and pumped the medicine into Steve’s mouth.

Steve sucked it down, wheezing sharply. He let Bucky pump the medicine a few more times before he swatted it away, feeling his lungs start to relax. 

“Are you okay? What happened?!”

Steve coughed, grabbing at his chest. “Y-your parents. Your parents are at the hospital.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened as horror seeped into that beautiful face. He looked pale– almost like he had the first time Steve ever saw him, all splotchy and sickly. 

“No,” he whispered.

“We’ve gotta go.” 

“Wait!” Bucky protested, pushing at Steve’s chest. “You’re not driving.”

“You don’t even have a license!” Steve choked out, still gulping back air frantically. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

“Steve, stop. Stop! We can think of something! I ran away! I ran away from home! It has nothing to do with you!”

“Oh like they won’t figure it out when you hit eighteen and you start packing your shit up? They’ll figure it out!” 

“Well we can’t just go back in there holding hands!” Bucky deflected, his voice deep and authoritative. 

Steve’s eyes widened, spine straightening. 

“I ran away. That’s it.” 

“Rumlow called me,” Steve whispered. “He’s gotta know you’re with me. Someone– someone had to tell him.”

“They wouldn’t do that to you,” Bucky breathed. “They helped with the garden. They wouldn’t– they couldn’t.”

Steve shrugged, feeling his heart slip from its perch and crash into his gut. He winced, rolling his head back against the wall. “Dunno.”

“Call him back. Pretend nothing’s wrong.” 

“Bucky–”

“Just do it, Steve!” Bucky shouted. He stood up, pacing the room. “Just fucking lie!” 

“I can’t!” Steve wailed. 

“Why the fuck not?” Bucky snarled. “You’ve been lying to everyone! It shouldn’t be hard!”

Steve’s felt guilt weigh against his soul, crushing his bones into dust. Outright lying and avoiding the truth were two different things. He could avoid the subject day and night, but when confronted with it– he’d break under such pressure. He shook his head, feeling tears sting into his eyes. He pulled his knees up against his chest and slung his arms over them. He dropped his head and just sobbed. 

“I ran away.”

“Why? What motive?” Steve spoke into his arms. 

“My dad hates me cause I’m gay.”

Steve sighed through his nose. Teens ran away all the time. Bucky’s parents hadn’t even given him a phone. They had no way to know where he’d gone. If he wanted to run away, he could. It wasn’t too farfetched. 

“Lemme call Sharon.” Steve replied weakly. “Need to figure out what we’re dealing with.” 

Bucky nodded, sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Steve put the phone up to his ear and waited. Sharon picked up on the third ring. 

_ “Steve! Get Bucky here, right now,” _ she growled in a hushed tone. 

“What’s happening there?” 

_ “Bucky’s parents are flipping out. They’re threatening a lawsuit for negligence or something. I dunno. Rumlow’s talking to them. He wasn’t a patient so it’s technically not our fault but– he’s a kid and he is one of our patients.” _

“Why did Rumlow call me?”

_ “Probably to see if you knew anything.” _

“But no one knows where Bucky really is? I mean– um, besides you n’ Sam?”

_ “Not that I’m aware. Rumlow’s been speaking to them most of the morning. But get him here now, Steve!”  _ She hung up the phone.

Steve sighed, relief flooding into him like water into a broken dam. His lungs finally relaxed and he was able to gulp back precious oxygen. He closed his eyes, dismissing all the fears he’d seen. There’d be no jail cell. No trial and no looks of disappointment. At least, not now anyway. 

“We’ve gotta get you to the hospital,” Steve said as he stood up. “Your parents don’t know you’re with me. We’re okay. I’ll drop you off and then I’m leavin’, okay?”

Bucky nodded. He’d managed to slip into some clothes while Steve was on the phone. 

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “I’m sorry I’m doin’ this to you.” 

Steve shrugged, grabbing his keys from the dresser. “S’fine. Let’s just go.”

“It’s not fine. You were,” Bucky paused to bite at his lip. “You were so scared. I’ve never seen someone so scared. It ain’t fair to you.” 

Steve grimaced, ushering Bucky down the stairs. He’d have to let Cap out later. The dog ran through the house, barking happily at the prospect of going outside but Steve just gave the dog a sorrowful look and turned away. 

“Steve,” Bucky pleaded, turning to press his fingers to Steve’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault,” Steve replied distantly. “Let’s go.” 

“I love you,” Bucky pressed on. He was leaning against Steve, up on his tip toes. He was waiting for a kiss or some form of affirmation that everything was okay. Steve couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pretend any of this was okay.

Steve was a grown ass man and he was sneaking around like a teenager  _ with _ a teenager. He’d been foolish to think that everything would work out so easily. George Barnes was barely accepting of his son’s sexuality. When faced with a much older man in Bucky’s life, with  _ Steve _ being that older man, George wouldn’t just smile and take it. Every ounce of trust that Steve worked to get with the Barnes’s would be gone. It didn’t matter if they waited till Bucky was eighteen or not. There was some form of ethical claim here and it was breathing down Steve’s neck now. 

“Steve,” Bucky said, his tone needy. “I love you.” 

Steve nodded, saying the words he knew would throw Bucky into a panicked frenzy, but he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop his fears from welling up and clouding his judgement. Nothing could quiet his worry now. 

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

Steve had dropped Bucky off at the hospital after a silent car ride. Bucky had tried everything he could to get Steve to come out of his stupor. He tried to lean over the gear shift and kiss Steve’s face, but Steve kept pushing him away and talking about seatbelts. He tried to hold Steve’s hand but Steve outright snapped about needing to use the hand to shift the gears. Bucky had known that was true, but it didn’t stop the hurt that lashed into him like a whip. 

Bucky had kept saying he loved Steve, over and over. That they’d get through this. They’d be fine. Steve was as silent as the grave to the subject. It was like a switch flipped inside him. He was the most adoring, loving boyfriend the night before. All surprise gardens and soft, steady love-making and then when they woke, Steve couldn’t be rid of Bucky fast enough.

Bucky didn’t even get a goodbye kiss as he left Steve’s car. He didn’t even get a ‘call you later’ or ‘see you’ good bye. Steve completely iced him out. 

Bucky walked numbly through the hospital, tears slipping from his eyes as he walked toward the peds wing. 

Sharon took one look at him before running over and pulling him into a hug. She cupped the back of his head as he hiccupped into her shoulder, trying his best not to cry. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Bucky sobbed, clutching her pink scrubs. Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Steve, all smiles and professions of love when the sun was gone, and the second it returned, he was cold and unsympathetic. Bucky understood the pressure Steve was under. Or at least, he thought he did. Steve’s job was on the line. His license. His reputation. He faced possible criminal charges. Bucky did the research. Undue influence of a minor was statutory rape and if anyone ever pushed this into a court, a prosecutor would have a field day with a doctor influencing a patient. 

“Let’s go see your parents, okay?” Sharon suggested, taking Bucky’s hand and wiping away his tears. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Bucky wanted to believe her– except she hadn’t seen the way Steve looked when he’d dropped Bucky off. 

They knocked on Rumlow’s door. Bucky’s mom was sitting in a chair crying and George was standing, his arms frozen in an exaggerated position, outstretched, like he’d been shouting. 

“Bucky,” his mom breathed out. “Where were you?” 

Bucky looked to his shoes, hastily tied in his hurry to leave the house of the man he loved the most. His heart was wrapped in vines, someone tugging harder and harder as it threatened to burst. 

“I was–”

“Do you have any idea how worried we were?” his father asked, coming to stand in front of Bucky. “We called everyone! Dr. Jarvis, Peter’s aunt, even tried to get ahold of Dr. Rogers!” 

Bucky swallowed dryly. He looked up, surprised at how he was almost taller than his father now. 

“I ran away,” Bucky whispered weakly. So quiet, no one in the room aside from Sharon seemed to hear it.

“What?” Mom asked. Her eyes were shining from tears. Bucky recognized the shape of her eyes– he had his mother’s eyes. 

“I ran away,” Bucky said again, his voice cracking. “I’m gay, mom. I’m gay and you won’t  _ listen _ .”

Dr. Rumlow sucked in a breath, clearly feeling uncomfortable at the situation he knew he was about to have in his office. 

“You’re a child, James!” Dad exclaimed. “You’ve never even kissed anyone!”

It was like a geyser, springing forth from Bucky with such force that he had no control. His anger, his fear, the pain in his gut that wouldn’t go away– the image of Steve’s face as he drove off. It was too much and it all bubbled up to the top, exploding.

“Yes I have!” he wailed. “I have and you won’t even listen to me!”

Mom’s eyes went wide, her painted lips parting silently. Even Sharon sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Who, Peter?” Dad pressed, taking a step forward.

“Mr. Barnes,” Dr. Rumlow said evenly. “This is a private conversation and shouldn’t be happening here.” 

Bucky watched the way his father’s brows twitched angrily. He saw the clench of his jaw and the way his fists balled up. He was trembling and Bucky just smirked. Pleased with how angry his father was. 

“Your son’s safe and alive,” Dr. Rumlow continued. “Dr. Rollins can look him over before he leaves if you wish, but that’s up to you.” 

“We’ll go,” Dad said, never taking his eyes from Bucky. “I’d like to continue this conversation in private anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s father didn’t even wait till they got home. He drove in jerky motions. His foot pressing too heavily on the gas and too forcefully on the brakes. He was as red as a tomato.

“Why are you smiling?” Dad snarled. “You happy you had your mother worked up? Her health is just as fragile as yours!”

“She’s not dying,” Bucky grumbled, looking out the window.

“And you aren’t either!” she cried. “Bucky, you know we love you.”

“Fuck off,” Bucky snapped. “If you loved me, you’d let me have friends.”

“We do that because we’re  _ afraid _ , Bucky!” she wailed, turning in her seat. “If another kid has a cold, that’s pneumonia for you! You remember how sick you were!”

Bucky sulked, his brow creasing heavily. 

“And why’re you so adamant about being gay? Do you not realize how  _ dangerous _ that could be for you?!”

“George,” his mother hissed warningly.

“Dangerous? Really, Dad?! It’s who I am!” 

“Because you shared a kiss with Peter?” his mother asked, her voice much gentler than his father’s. “I just want to understand, sweetie.” 

“You’ll never understand.  _ Breeders _ won’t ever understand.” 

“Breeders?!” Dad spat, slamming on the brakes at a stoplight. “James Barnes! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing! Just accept I’m gay and move on! It’s not dangerous! I’m fine!” 

“Do you really think I give a shit if you’re gay or not? I don’t  _ care _ what you are, Bucky!” Dad began, his voice gruff and loud. “What I care about is the desperation to annex yourself! It’ll get you killed! You’re already different. Why do you have to be  _ more _ different? You’ve always kept trying to push boundaries. And I’m not convinced this is anything but that.”

Bucky laughed darkly, venom infused into each huff of breath. “You think this is just me tryin’ to rebel against you? I’ve kissed a guy, dad. I’ve  _ fucked _ a guy and I liked it!” 

His dad slammed on the brakes, receiving a few angry honks from behind. 

“Bucky…” Mom whispered, her big doe eyes shocked. 

“Is that where you went?” Dad asked, his voice no longer angry. It was resigned and calm– defeated. “You ran away to be with a guy?”

“Sweetie, we just…we just want you safe,” his mother encouraged, reaching her hand back to Bucky, but he just crossed his arms. 

“I love him.” Bucky felt the tears well up in his eyes, warm and stinging. “I love him and you won’t let me be with him.” 

His parents looked to each other, shock etched so deeply into the lines of their faces, Bucky could trace it all the way to their hearts. 

Dad took a deep breath, moving the car back into traffic, receiving a few more honks. “We’re going to have a very calm discussion when we get back home. But let me get one thing into that skull of yours, James. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight or into goats. I care about your  _ health _ .”

Bucky didn’t respond. He looked out the window, remembering how Steve looked as he drove away. Pain seared into his nerves. He whimpered softly, pressing a hand to his lips as he tried not to cry. 

No one spoke the rest of the way home.

 

* * *

 

Bucky tried to go up to his room but his father grabbed his wrist gently and said, “Please son. Please let’s talk.” 

Begrudgingly, Bucky walked into the living room and sat down with a huff on the recliner. His father’s recliner. 

His parents took a seat on the sofa, both of them looking at him like he was a jumper on the edge of a building. One wrong word and down he’d go. 

“I need to explain something to you, son. And I need you to listen,” Dad instructed. 

Bucky just clenched his jaw. 

“I love you. I love you and your mother more than anything in this world. I want you to be happy. I want you healthy. I never wanted to shelter you like this. I never wanted to keep you here and away from a real life. You should be going out for sports teams or wondering what colleges you’ll be applying to next year. You should be having relationship problems and worrying about acne before dances. But that’s not what you got. You’ve got a disease that could make the common cold could kill you.”

Bucky swallowed loudly, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

“I’m so sorry we sheltered you. We understand why you act out. We understand your anger toward us. We accept it.” 

“Bullsh–”

“Bucky, please,” his mother pleaded. 

Bucky went silent. 

“Being gay isn’t just a title. It comes with a lot of side effects,” his father lectured. “You’ll be judged and ridiculed. You could get beaten up or discriminated against. I don’t want that for you. I want you to have every opportunity your unique life can give you. A cut from a punch could send you to the hospital. Hell, a group of men too drunk and angry to back down from a fight? They could kill you before any disease could. Being gay doesn’t just mean being different. It means accepting that there are countless people out there who’ll hate you.”

“You’re so fragile, sweetie,” Mom said. “We just want you safe.” 

“If you really think this is who you are, I’m not going to fight you on it. I’ll do my best to protect you, but you’ve got a hard life ahead of you. Because of your disease and because being gay just–” Bucky saw the tears in his father’s eyes. He heard the rough swallow as his father struggled to find words. “The world is a terrible place, Bucky. And we’re at fault for sheltering you so much from it. I’m not perfect. I make no claims of it. I’m– I don’t understand why someone is gay. I just don’t understand it. I can’t, you’re right. I can’t understand why anyone would want that life.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching as his mind fought with itself. He didn’t know whether to be angry or happy his father was being so open about this. 

“I just want the happiest life possible for you,” Dad explained. “But this person– the one you say you love? I don’t know anything about him. And that scares the hell out of me. I don’t know how serious he is, or if he’s safe for you. I don’t know if he’ll protect you or if he really knows how to treat a boy with your condition. I don’t even know his name.”

Bucky closed his eyes, his jaw aching from how hard he’d been clenching it. 

“If you really think you’re gay, I’ll admit that I’ve been an ass to my own son. But we need to discuss this. Running away? How long have you even known this guy?” 

“I didn’t run away with him,” Bucky mumbled, playing with his cuticles. 

“Then where’d you go, Bucky?” his mom asked. 

Bucky swallowed, taking his time. He’d boxed himself into a corner. He’d let anger cloud his judgement and now here he was, dancing on the edge. He had no idea if he’d fall and bring Steve down with him, or just fall himself. Steve had been so afraid. Bucky had never seen such pure terror on a person’s face. This was what he was scared of, and Bucky was here– alone. Doing everything that Steve feared the most. 

“I just needed to get away,” Bucky diverted. “I can’t take being here all the time. You don’t even let me stay with Peter.” 

“Yes we do,” Mom countered, but her voice was still soft. “We just worry you’ll get sick. Hospitals can be just as dangerous as a school yard.” 

“Then why do I go there when I’m sick?” 

“Because they’re also best equipped for saving you,” his father answered. 

“I came back,” Bucky explained. “Isn’t that enough? I came back. Now can we just stop this?”

“No, honey,” his mom said. “You didn’t just run away. You told us you’ve had sex with another boy. I didn’t even know you knew how.” 

“Seriously?” Bucky snapped. “I’ve got access to the internet. Do you honestly think I don’t watch porn?” 

“James,” his father growled. “Don’t.” 

“I’m not some innocent child though! I’ll be eighteen next year and you won’t be able to tell me what to do anymore! I can make my own decisions!”

“Sweetheart,” his mother pleaded. “We’re not trying to control your life, we’re just trying to  _ protect _ you!”

“I don’t need your protection! He’s smarter than both of you anyway!”

“Oh? Is he in college? A little older than you? They always think they know everything, Bucky, but they don’t! What about health insurance? What about that phone you wanted? When you’re eighteen, you’ll still be just as dependent upon us as you are now!”

“I don’t need you! I have him!” Bucky commiserated, feeling anger bubble up again. His limbs were trembling as he fought back the urge to break down and cry. “I don’t need you to get me a stupid phone!” 

“No you don’t,” his mother said. Her tone was all-too knowing. “Because you already have one.”

Both Bucky and his father stared at her, both in shock. 

She pulled the phone out of her purse, showing it to them. “I found it when I was cleaning your room.”

“You lifted my mattress up?” 

“I was trying to pull the bed sheets off,” she explained. “It came flying with it.” 

“Did you steal it?” Dad asked. “Bucky–”

“I didn’t steal it,” Bucky explained, sighing heavily. “He got it for me.”

“Bucky,” Dad sighed. He fidgeted with his fingers, before rubbing at his temples. “We need to talk about this guy.” 

“I’m not ready to tell you about him.” 

Dad nodded, looking to his wife for a brief moment. Sharing a private conversation that came from years of knowing each other. 

“Do you use a condom?” Mom asked. 

“We do,” Bucky answered. 

“How’d you two meet?”

“You don’t get that right now,” Bucky said. 

His mother closed her eyes, sighing through her nose. 

“Bucky, we just need to know you’re safe. That’s all we care about.” 

“I’m safe. I’ll be safer if I don’t have to sneak around anymore. So just trust me, okay? I know what I’m doing.” 

His parents looked like they didn’t want to trust him. Their tired faces were sullen. Their lips pale. Bucky had never taken the time to really realize all they sacrificed for him, all because of his disease. Everything they did, they did for him. They’d given up family vacations. They’d given up going on dates. They’d given up new cars to pay for Bucky’s medical bills. His father had two jobs because his mother couldn’t work so she could always be here with Bucky. 

And how did Bucky repay it? By believing they blamed him. By believing they hated him for being gay or would refuse to accept him. He’d been wrong. He’d been wrong all along. 

“How long’ve you two been seeing each other?”

“Little over three months,” Bucky stated. “But it feels like a lot longer.” 

“And you’ve already had sex?”

“Mom,” Bucky whined. “Don’t.”

“I just– I know. I know you’re not innocent. I just– you’re my baby and this is hard for me to understand.” 

“Would it make a difference if he were a she?” Bucky spat.

“No. I’d still be just as startled. Only I’d be a little more worried.” She laughed. “At least no one’s getting pregnant.” 

Even his father chuckled at that.

Bucky let a small twitch curl up the side of his lips. 

“We need to set some rules, James,” Dad explained. “You give that phone back to him and we’ll get you your own. It’s not right to make him pay for that. And you’ll tell us when you’re with him.” 

Bucky nodded, feeling a weight lift off his chest. He wanted to call Steve immediately and tell him everything, but then the violent feeling of someone punching him in his gut took his breath away. 

“Bucky?” his mother exclaimed, inching a bit forward. 

“I’m fine!” he protested, putting his hands up. “S’just…I lied. I was– I was with him. Today. He dropped me off at the hospital. I stayed the night with him.”

He saw his mother’s chest rise, her hand pressing to her cheeks. She looked so disappointed. His father’s face remained impassive. 

“He was so scared. About you finding out.” 

“So he is older,” Dad concluded. 

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted.

“Your father’s older than me, Bucky,” Mom encouraged. “It’s okay if they’re a little older. Sometimes it’s best.” 

_ ‘Fifteen years is more than a little…’ _

Bucky shrugged. “I swear, he’s really good for me. Just– please trust me. He’d never hurt me.”

Dad’s eyes were misty and round. Bucky’s lips dropped open at realizing how much of his father he had in his own eyes. They were big and sad. Before his dad even said it, Bucky knew the words out of his mouth would hurt him.

“They always seem like they’ll never hurt you, Buck. He’s your first, but it’s unlikely he’ll be your last.”

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t know that.” 

“I’ve lived a life, Buckoo. Took a lot of heartbreak before I found your mom.”

Bucky looked to his mom, watching her nod to support his father’s argument. 

“You don’t know him,” Bucky hissed. 

“We’d like to,” Mom pressed. “He should come for dinner. We’d love to meet him. When you’re both ready.” 

Bucky wished it could be that easy. They were thinking Steve was some dumb college kid, but he was much more than that. He was Bucky’s savior. His literal rock and his  _ physician _ . The second they saw Steve, everything would change. It didn’t matter if Steve dressed to the nines and brought flowers and chocolate for Bucky’s mom. They’d take one look at him and suddenly everything would change.  

“I’ll ask him. Just don’t push us, okay?” 

His parents looked to each other again, nodding to themselves before nodding toward Bucky.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wasn’t allowed to take public transit to see Steve. His father was adamant that he’d drop him off or Steve would come pick him up. Since Bucky couldn’t risk them seeing Steve’s face, Bucky had his father drive him over to Steve’s, but he asked to drop him off at the corner instead of the front of the house. 

There was a lot of complaining from his father, but eventually Bucky was out of the car with his backpack and he was casually walking down the street. He kept peering over his shoulder, jamming his finger in the direction of the flow of traffic so his dad would finally leave and not see which house it was. 

When his dad finally drove away, Bucky walked up to the house with the most beautiful garden he’d ever seen. He hadn’t told Steve he was coming over. He hadn’t spoken to Steve in three days, truth be told. He knew Steve wasn’t at the hospital though. He’d texted Sharon to double check. He took a deep sigh, looking at the pond with the coy fish. He still wanted to name them. 

Bucky hadn’t even knocked before the door was opening and Steve was leaning against the frame. He wore sweats and an undershirt. He looked worn out and Bucky noticed the lines that were permanently etched into his forehead– age lines. Just like the crow’s feet when he smiled. Bucky didn’t mind it. He loved it, but would his parents? 

“Hey Bucky,” Steve greeted unenthusiastically. He had a mug in his hands. Bucky saw the little string hanging over the side. Steve was drinking tea. 

“I told my parents that I had a boyfriend. They were surprisingly okay with it. They’re just– they just don’t think you’re gonna be with me forever. I couldn’t explain to them why they didn’t really know though.” He walked over to the pathway, looking up the few stairs at Steve. “You  _ are _ gonna be with me forever, right?” 

Steve looked away, licking his lips slowly. “Dunno.”

The answer was like a knife to the back. Bucky winced, gasping for air. 

“It’s a lot more real now, Buck. What could happen? If your parents don’t accept this, I could go to prison.”

“But I’m seventeen!”

“Undue influence,” Steve said. Bucky knew the term already from his own research. “I’m a physician. Doctors, therapists, teachers and bosses. We’re all clear cut cases for undue influence.” 

“But you didn’t influence me. I influenced  _ you _ !” Bucky wanted to scramble up the stairs and wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. He wanted to fall into bed and press kisses over every inch of Steve’s body. He hated those three stairs. He hated how far away he felt. 

“After I dropped you off at the hospital, I called a lawyer. We met yesterday about this.” 

“You’re shitting me,” Bucky stated flatly. 

“Said there’s a strong case for undue influence because of my position and your list of mental illnesses.” 

“Mental illnesses?” Bucky hissed.

“Deficiencies, illnesses, struggles, whatever you wanna call them. According to him, your testimony won’t be considered credible. If your parents choose to sue me, I’m looking at real prison time, Buck.”    

“But you love me, right?”

Steve walked down the steps, meeting Bucky on the freshly laid out pebbling. “Of course I do.” 

“Then we can talk to them. They’re not– they’re not as unreasonable as I thought. They want you over for dinner.” 

Steve looked away, watching a jogger go down the street. He nodded before taking a sip of his tea. “I thought I wanted this. That we could tell them. Thought it was  _ right _ to tell them. Now I’m not sure anymore.” 

Bucky nodded. “I can do this.” He wrapped his fingers around Steve’s, both of them holding the mug. “I can make them see how right you are for me. They even want me to give you the phone back. Said they’ll buy me one. Apparently it’s not fair to you.”

Steve snorted. “And when they see I’m your physician? Bucky, this isn’t just about you dating someone older. I’m your doctor. I treat your medical condition. This is ethically wrong already.” 

“The world is a cruel place,” Bucky surmised. “I didn’t really understand that before. My dad– when we were talking about me being gay. He said he didn’t understand why anyone would wanna be gay. But you didn’t choose to feel this way. I didn’t choose to feel this way. It just happened, but apparently there’s all these stupid reasons for why we’re not supposed to love each other. But we  _ do _ love each other. So what do we do?”

Steve looked down at him with sad, tired eyes. “We go for as long as we can. If the world doesn’t want me with you, we’ll know.” He laced one hand with Bucky, tugging him toward the house. 

“Even if that means prison?” 

Steve sighed as he closed the door behind them. He walked into the dining room from the narrow parlor. Bucky followed silently. Steve put his tea down before turning and leaning on the table. 

“Even if that means prison.” 

Bucky nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. He wrapped his arms around Steve, sighing in content as Steve’s embrace warmed him up from the soul to the skin. Bucky didn’t want this to ever end. He didn’t want the world to take them away from each other. There had to be a way that everything would be okay. A way to prepare his parents or get them to understand. If Sam and Sharon could understand, then why was it farfetched to believe Bucky’s own parents wouldn’t understand? They loved him. They wanted him happy. 

“Steve?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I wanna go dancing with you.” 

Steve chuckled softly, pressing his cheek to Bucky’s head. “Don’t really know how to dance.” 

“Me either,” Bucky admitted.

Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s hair before resting against it again.

They stood there, lost in their own minds. Bucky didn’t want the ending that Steve was so sure he’d get. He wanted to slash the noose that Steve saw and show him another ending. An ending where they’d be happy. No sickness, no ethics or laws, no parents. Just them. There had to be a way to get his parents to understand. They understood so far. Bucky wasn’t honestly sure Steve was right. He was beginning to believe that maybe his parents weren’t the monsters he’s once painted them to be. Everything they did, they did for Bucky. If Bucky was happy with Steve, maybe they’d embrace him as well. Because they were already  _ tolerating _ the idea. They didn’t push Bucky to divulge Steve’s identity or age. They knew he was older. They didn’t ask to meet him before Bucky saw him again. They were  _ respecting _ Bucky’s wishes. That had to be a good sign.

Bucky believed it so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Add me on tumblr!  
> [click me!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)


	9. Serenity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking the longest time to finally finish this. But here it is! The resolution :D  
> Warning for blatant disregard for medical profession ethics, and also this chapter is NOT beta read nor edited. So, expect some errors! If you find anything that is absolutely terrible that it makes the sentence unreadable, let me know. If it's just a general misspelling, I'm not going to worry about it at this point.
> 
> Thanks for the ride! And I hope you enjoy!

GEH Final Chapter

“What’s his eye color?” Bucky’s mom asked.

“Mom, I swear if you ask one more time.” Bucky stared up at the ceiling. He held a racquetball and half-contemplated tossing it in the near vicinity of his mother to chase her out. For weeks now, she’d done nothing but pester about Steve’s looks. She never asked for a name, but she sure was trying to paint some kind of picture. Bucky would never give it up. Steve’s identity was too important to play this game with.

“Fine, fine! Dinner’s ready.”

Bucky ate dinner without a word about Steve and his family didn’t say a word about the mysterious boyfriend. But instead of idle chatter, there was something void. A tense static in the air that felt like it could turn to concrete and shatter at any moment. It was like steam becoming ice in seconds. It hovered, waiting to snap and Bucky wasn’t sure if he could take it much longer. His parents were slightly supportive, but why? _Why_ were they? On reflection, Bucky acted like any dumb kid. He _was_ a dumb kid, and that was the problem. Emotions got the best of him. He became more interested in being right than he was in protecting Steve’s identity. He’d almost pushed it too far.

Steve hadn’t let Bucky spend the night since this all came to a head. They’d spend the day together and maybe spend most of the night, but Bucky was never allowed to stay till breakfast. They weren’t even fucking that much anymore. Steve spent a lot of time asking weird questions about asking Bucky for his birth certificate and if there was anyone else in Bucky’s life he’d told that could _vouch_ for them.

After dinner, Bucky got on his computer, searching how attorneys go about cases. Evidence. Steve was collecting evidence. The guilt in Bucky’s heart was enough to split it open. He thought this would all be solved once he turned eighteen. Unfortunately, Steve found out that it didn’t matter. If Bucky’s parents pressed chargers, Bucky’s current age didn’t matter because the age where they started did. The world didn’t treat them kindly. Bucky had been ignorant to believe they deserved any form of kindness. Now everything was turning bitter. Bucky had been a fool to think his life would’ve been any different. HIGM, being gay, being isolated—what part of his life had been kind to him? None. Nothing would change that.

The following day, Bucky visited Peter in the hospital. He sat down, smiling at his friend. Peter’s complexion as better and he was even nibbling on a slice of cheese.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Peter broke off another part of cheese.

“Does your family know about Wade yet?”

“Aunt May met him last night, yeah.” Peter smiled, staring at his cheese. “She can’t figure out why I like him. Says he’s obnoxious and not really all that cute.”

Bucky laughed.

“Does it matter that he’s cute though? I mean, yeah Dr. Rogers is hot but—I don’t care that Wade isn’t? We share something more than that.”

“I don’t think it matters at all.” Bucky accepted an outstretched offering of cheese from Peter’s hand. “I think as long as you care about each other—looks got nothin’ to do with it.”

Peter smiled, a blush dusting across his freckled cheeks. “Good. Cause I really like Wade. He’s kind of—well he’s the whole reason I wanted to beat this. I love you, don’t get me wrong. But, Wade’s just—God—he’s a hero to me.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He nibbled on his cheese, listening to the countless things Peter liked about Wade. He liked his sass, his twisted sense of humor, he liked the way he always swirled around his drink like wine before drinking it. He liked his courage, his conviction. Bucky started cataloguing stuff he liked about Steve. He liked his bravery, his kindness, his beard. He liked how big his hands were around Bucky’s waist. He liked the way they kissed and how Steve would rest his forehead against Bucky’s before finally breaking away. He liked feeling like he was all that mattered.

He liked feeling like he _mattered_. Peter and Bucky? They both had that in common. They mattered to the men in their lives. Bucky’s parents’ words echoed into his mind again. _I had to experience a lot of heartbreak before I found your mom. They always say they won’t hurt you._

“Do you think—do you think you’ll marry Wade?” Bucky asked.

Peter was silent. He blinked furiously, his mouth frozen with half-eaten cheese inside. He sucked in a deep breath, chewing and swallowing.

“I dunno. I don’t even know if I’ll live to see tomorrow.”

“But I mean—if you were healthy. Would you marry him?”

“Bucky—I don’t—I don’t know. He’s my first boyfriend.”

“But does that matter?!” Bucky stood up, flailing a hand. “If you love him, if you want him, then why can’t you shoot for the stars? Why can’t we just dream about it and think it may actually happen!”

“Oh Bucky.”

“What!” Tears stung his eyes.

“I’m really happy you and Steve are so in love. I really am. But we’ve gotta be realistic.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll be with Wade as long as we care—but if it doesn’t work out, that’s okay too. And it’s okay if you and Steve fall apart too.”

“Stop it!”

“Bucky!” Peter reached out his hand. Bucky stared at the IV tube in it. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m not supportive. I’m so supportive of you two. I always have been!”

“But you don’t think we’ll get married either.” Bucky slumped over. He rested his head on Peter’s thigh. “No one believes in us.”

“We’re young, Buck. We’d like to think things’ll last but the odds are—well—they’re not with us.”

“I can’t believe you.” Bucky stood up, shaking his head. “You’re not supportive. You don’t even want me and Steve together, do you?! I’ll bet you’re jealous!”

Peter’s eyes widened, mouth agape.

“The only person who cares about you is an ugly scarred up freak!” Bucky turned around, his heart shoving adrenaline into his system.

Wade stood there, a hood over his bald head. He carried flowers. His face was unreadable. Bucky turned to see Peter. Unshed tears glistened in his brown eyes. Bucky closed his eyes, barreling through Wade and out into the halls. He didn’t mean it. Wade was perfect for Peter and it didn’t _matter_ what he looked like as long as Peter loved him. They were at least the right ages for each other. But Bucky was selfish. And didn’t he have the right to be? It was _his_ life! And life dumped him a shit hand and he had to make do! He didn’t get to live into his nineties. He didn’t get to go outside and play in the mud with the other kids.

_Neither did Peter._

Bucky was so desperate for validation, for belief in what he and Steve were doing was _real_ that hearing anything to the contrary was out of the question. He wanted to prove everyone wrong. He wanted that last laugh.

Steve walked down the hall, blinking in surprise at Bucky. He tucked a chart close to his chest and winced.

“What?” Bucky spat out.

“You—are you okay?”

“No.” Bucky leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms, huffing. In Bucky’s life, he’d read a lot, he’d watched a lot of TV—objectively, he knew what he was doing. He was the childish character in the TV show that fell when life didn’t do what he wanted. He was the character that everyone smiled smug at as he suffered when he didn’t get his way. He bit his lip, trying to break skin.

“Hey! Woah, hey!” Steve pulled Bucky by the wrist into an empty room. “Talk to me, Buck.”

“Do you believe in us?” Watery tears shined like diamonds on Bucky’s eyes. They felt heavy in his eyes and shame hardened them further. He wanted to be an adult so badly, to have a clear head and be _reasonable_. But when he wasn’t sure he’d get a tomorrow? What sense was acting reasonable worth? He had to take advantage of every experience or he may never have another chance.

“Buck,” Steve caressed Bucky’s cheek, “of course I do.”

“Do you think we’ll get married?”

Steve’s brow pinched in. He averted his eyes, licking his lips slowly. “I’d like to think so. But—but we have to be prepared for anything. You may grow up and find you don’t like me anymore.”

“How could that even be possible? I landed a doctor. Ya’ll’re rich.”

Steve chuckled. He stepped away, moving over to the naked bed and sat down. “Wanna hear something about me? When I—God—when I was your age?”

Bucky nodded. He padded over to Steve, getting between his lover’s legs. Steve’s hands snaked out around Bucky’s waist, warm and big against his tense skin.

“I was in love.”

Bucky’s brows shot up.

“Yeah! I know. We met in art class of all places. He was the jock that everyone said didn’t act like one—too nice and didn’t bully anyone. I was the quiet kid with asthma that couldn’t even look at a football without keeling over.”

Bucky laughed.

“We kind of—explored this whole thing with each other. He was my first kiss with a guy—first dick I sucked,” he laughed, “first guy I made love to and—and I don’t regret anything about it.”

Bucky cocked a brow.

“That’s what I need you to know, Buck. I was in love with someone that I eventually—life had different plans for us. But we were happy and when it all ended, it was okay. I can look back and think about him and smile about all the things we learned together. I _don’t_ regret it. No matter what happens between you and me, I don’t want you to regret it either. If—if we end—which I don’t want—but if we do,” he ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair, “I want you to look back on us with fond memories and be thankful that we at least tried.”

Bucky’s bottom lip quivered. He reached out, hugging Steve tight. Steve’s heart was pressed to his ear, beating safe and strong. Bucky held on, his lashes wet with tears that he couldn’t stop.

“But I don’t want to look back on you. I want to always have you.”

“I know,” Steve kissed Bucky’s crown, “and that’s the goal. I just wanted you to know that even if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t right.” Steve sat back, breaking out of Bucky’s hold. He shrugged, checking his watch. “Hey, wanna go eat in the café with me? I’m starving.”

Bucky’s eyes rounded. “Yes!”

* * *

Steve and Bucky lay on the hammock. Steve’s fingers were tracing random pictures into Bucky’s back. Bucky was occasionally nuzzling his nose into Steve’s neck. The birds chirped around them, the wind rustled the trees. The moment was nice, watching the clouds laze on by. Steve didn’t want to break it. He thought of every reason to keep his mouth shut. He liked pretending that everything was going to be okay. He liked thinking that Bucky was a normal guy and being outside and exposed to mosquitoes wasn’t any more dangerous than it was for Steve. He liked letting his feet rock them in the hammock and the way Bucky’s body rested on his a little heavier each time they swung. He didn’t want to shatter the moment into oblivion. All it’d be after he opened his mouth was a memory. The idea that he could kill the moment—in the most literal of senses now—terrified him.

So he kept quiet, minutes extending into an hour and an hour extending into the sunset. Bucky had fallen asleep. Steve could feel the drool on his breast. He looked down, frowning. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide what he had to ask. Hopefully, Bucky would be okay with it. It was just that it scared Steve to subject Bucky to human testing. And honestly, that could be years down the line. Bucky could—

Steve winced.

The truth of it was, there was no guarantee Bucky would even live to be the patient zero subject. Steve didn’t want to hold onto hope that he could be it, and he didn’t want to fear the scares of the research hurting Bucky more. It put Steve in a precarious situation, one he’d rather avoid. So he kept avoiding it.

“Okay,” Steve leaned forward, piling Bucky into his arms, “it’s time we get you home.”

“No!” Bucky curled into Steve, fisting his hands into Steve’s shirt. “Let me stay.”

“It’s not okay anymore, Buck.”

“Why? Because you don’t have my parents’ blessing?”

“Yeah. It’s—it’s wrong.”

“You do know the fork was once considered morally wrong too, right? Like, people used to think it was the work of Satan. _The fork_.”

Steve chuckled, smiling.

“So fuck it, Steve. Let me stay!” Bucky squirmed in Steve’s arms until he had his legs wrapped around Steve’s waist and his arms around Steve’s neck. “Let me stay tonight. I wanna hold you.”

Steve shivered. He looked to Bucky’s soft lips, down along the line of his neck. He looked to Bucky’s chest and his shoulders. He had more growing to do. He had shoulders to fill out, a chest to widen and a jawline to refine. Steve kept walking, entertaining the idea of a grown Bucky holding _him_ in bed, making love to _him_ at night. Steve wanted it—he wanted to share every bit of himself with Bucky and let Bucky for once feel like he had some sort of control.

And that’s when Steve dropped Bucky. He gasped, eyes wide. _Control_. “I’ve done something so wrong to you—and you don’t even know it.”

“Steve?” Bucky hovered, his fingers inches from Steve’s body. “Are you—what? Are you okay?”

Steve was not okay. He sucked back air that refused to enter his throat. He wheezed, dropping down to the ground.

“Steve!”

Asthma was a flash of lighting that lingered instead of vanished. It came on sudden and violent. Steve clutched his throat, gasping. He pointed to the house, in a desperate maneuver for Bucky to look. Bucky’s eyes roamed from Steve’s face to the hand. He whined before dashing off into the backdoor.

Steve lay there. He was the reason a child knew blow jobs and the complications of sixtynines. He was the reason Bucky got sore after sex, the reason Bucky had found himself with an infection once. He was too old for Bucky and nothing about this was excusable. He could rationalize it all day but the cold hard fact of the matter was—none of this was okay. And it was Steve’s duty to end it.

Steve closed his eyes, breathing in minty medicine. Bucky was above him, administering the inhaler. His eyes were wide, his face ashen. The color seemed to drain from those red lips, muting them to a gentle peach. Steve reached up, caressing Bucky’s face.

Bucky leaned in, a smile curling his lips. He closed his eyes, allowing Steve to cradle his head. Steve coughed a few times, his lungs working again.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered.

“Yeah.”

Bucky curled into Steve’s arms, both lying on the freshly cut grass. Steve though to the ticks or if he’d made sure all of Cap’s shit was cleaned out of the yard. He hoped they weren’t lying in shit. A smile twitched at his lips, maybe he’d feel it if he was. Right now the earth was cold, a bed alone under an ocean of stars.

“What did you mean? What you said?” Bucky’s chin pressed into Steve’s sternum as he spoke.

“Undue influence.” The legal terminology hung in the air, a rancid reminder that took this relationship and tainted it. “I’ve used my influence over you—I’m guilty.”

“Steve—”

“I just—I kept trying to lie to myself, Buck. That I wasn’t like a—a _pedophile_. I kept tellin’ myself that you weren’t a _child_ or that you knew what you were doing! But you don’t. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing! I’ve never—I never looked at a kid and thought, hey, I wanna fuck that!”

Bucky grimaced.

“I’ve always thought I could be so morally objective. But then you—you with your lips and your jaw and that fuckin’ voice. You just—everything changed.”

“You like my voice?”

“Of course I do, Buck. No one’s ever made my whole body light up before from just _talking_. God—I’m so in love with you. And it’s—it’s inexcusable.”

“Why?”

“Because the world sets its morals somewhere, and this time morality doesn’t fall with us.”

“It used to be morally acceptable to beat women and own black people as slaves.”

“That can’t be used to excuse all morally objectional actions. There has to be some kind of—order. Some line not crossed.”

“It used to be okay to stone women for touching a man’s property when she was on her period.”

“Bucky—”

“It used to be okay for people to fuck goats.” Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, and it also used to be okay for older men to fuck boys but _we learned from it_.”

“So—so what—what’re you saying, Steve?” Bucky huffed, leaning back. He stared down his nose at Steve, his jaw sharp, his eyes ice. Steve saw a man in that expression. And they were so _close_. Bucky wasn’t a fifteen-year-old kid. He was seventeen. He could impregnate a girl if he wanted to, he could drive and watch R-rated movies. But he couldn’t vote. He couldn’t drink. He couldn’t serve his country. He wasn’t an adult no matter how much Steve wanted to see him as one. And he _didn’t_ act like an adult. He was impulsive, selfish and more than irrational.

“I just—I need to recognize what I am. Start—start admitting it.”

“That you’re a pedophile?”

“Yeah—I guess.”

“God, Steve.” Bucky sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not a pedophile. I’m not some prepubescent child that you stole from his parents.”

“But I did steal you.”

“No you didn’t. I strong-armed you! I was the one holding the cards. Not you. This is my fault, Steve.”

Steve choked back a sob. What an unfortunate word to use for a relationship that had given Steve so much joy. _Fault_. He wasn’t unkind to Bucky. He was devoted, kind, patient. He indulged in Bucky and wanted to give him a real life, one that Bucky could look back on and smile about. Steve didn’t fetishize Bucky’s body. He didn’t jerk off to it and he certainly didn’t jerk off to little kids on a schoolground. How could he be just like _other_ pedophiles? What even was the damn definition of a pedophile? Steve didn’t even know anymore.  He’d been so busy trying to explain to himself why he wasn’t one.

“I’m almost eighteen, Steve. Don’t leave me.”

“This wasn’t me leaving you. This was just—I dunno. Realization that I’m not as good a person as I thought I was.”

“I think you’re the best person in the world. And Sam and Sharon believe in you. They believe in us.”

“I guess.”

“They wouldn’t help you build a garden for me if they didn’t think we should be together.” Bucky picked up one of Steve’s hands. He traced it with his finger, following the veins. Steve watched, suppressing the urge to yank his hand away when the sensation got too light on his skin. Ticklish, almost.

“We have to tell your parents. We can’t wait till your eighteen.”

“What?!”

“It’s not—it’s not right.”

“But they could sue you! You could lose your license!”

“I accept the consequences of being with you, Bucky. I can’t keep hiding anymore.” Steve sat up, smiling sadly. Shadows elongated his face, his muscles felt weak. He was so tired of running and hiding—waiting. If his future was to be prison, then he’d accept it. “Don’t ever look back on me as a mistake, please.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. He stared at his hands in his lap, tongue slowly trailing along his lips. “Never, Steve. Never. But—but stop being a martyr for a second, please.”

Steve waited.

“If you wanna tell my parents, fine. But—and I know this is stupid. Just—” Bucky looked up, sucking in a deep breath, “just make love to me before you do.”

“And then we’ll tell them?”

“Yeah, Steve. Then we’ll tell them.” Bucky crawled over Steve. He straddled his lover, rocking back and forth. He leaned down, claiming Steve’s mouth with his own. Steve followed, his tongue trailing behind Bucky’s, his breath ghosting out on Bucky’s inhale. He felt wet tears on his face, tears that weren’t his own. He whined and sat up, wrapping his arms around Bucky firm. Bucky was hard, his cock pressed between their bodies. Steve wasted no time in snaking a hand between them. He snuck into Bucky’s pants, finding Bucky’s erection and taking it into his hand.

Bucky mewled into Steve’s mouth. He rocked harder, his kisses more urgent.

Saliva cooled against Steve’s beard. His heart was beating out of his chest and he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just fall back into another asthma attack. He jerked Bucky off frantically, his dry hand squeezing and palming over the tip. Bucky shook above him, more tears falling from those pretty blue eyes.

Steve would’ve liked to take Bucky apart slow. To kiss his boy slow and reverent, but the idea didn’t feel right anymore. What felt right, was dumping out all the passion he felt for Bucky. Instead of showing it piece by piece, Steve threw that caution into the wind. He let go, ravenous for Bucky.

“S-Steve I’m—” Bucky’s body tensed, his mouth next to Steve’s ear. He shrieked once, twice and then groaned a long, steady note into the wind. Steve’s hand slicked up and he used that to his advantage. He kept massaging Bucky’s cock, working it over even when it went entirely soft.

Bucky was whimpering, biting Steve’s neck and fisting into his shirt. He tried to yank away, but Steve held him steady.

Steve’s lips found Bucky’s again. He shifted them, Bucky on his back and Steve between his legs. Steve tore off Bucky’s pants, tossing them somewhere in the yard. He pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times with Bucky’s come to slick himself up. He rocked against Bucky, letting his lover feel how hard he was, how desperate he needed to be inside. He opened his eyes, pausing to stare down at Bucky. His hair framed his face, his lashes clumped together and sparkling with tears. His face was flushed red and his lips swollen. His chest rose and fell with every gasp. The world was muted around them, the sun long gone. The moon’s rays aged Bucky and without any obstruction, Steve saw the man he’d be and it took his breath away.

He shimmied down Bucky, kissing his thigh, his calf, his ankles. He ran his nose along the bone, listening to the way Bucky laughed.

“Don’t start foot worshiping or I’m gonna kick you.”

Steve gently placed Bucky’s foot down. “No foot worship. I just love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, Steve?”

“Hmm?” Steve sucked two fingers into his mouth before bringing them down to Bucky’s hole. He swirled them around a few times, dipping one inside.

Bucky hissed, dropping his head back. “Oh shit! Oh fuck I love this!”

Steve laughed, watching the way Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his tongue pushed against his teeth. He pumped his fingers, in and out, nice and slow.

“D-don’t use—”

Steve was about to pull his fingers out, afraid he’d hurt Bucky when Bucky’s hand clamped down on his wrist. He shoved Steve’s fingers back inside him, pushing them all the way to the knuckle.

“Don’t use a condom, please.”

“What? No, Bucky!”

“Please!” The desperation in Bucky’s voice alarmed Steve. He froze, fingers deep inside his lover. He felt the way Bucky clamped down around him, how his hips couldn’t stay still. He was desperate. Just about as desperate as Steve—maybe more.

“I could get you sick, Buck!”

“I need you to understand something, Steve.”

Steve kept silent.

“I’m not an idiot. I’m not an adult, sure whatever. If that’s what you wanna think but you need to understand _one thing_ about me right now. This is _my_ life. These are _my_ choices. You’re it for me, Steve. Game over. If it ain’t you, it’s no one else, okay? And we’ve done it before so please, just—just respect my decision.”

Steve pulled his fingers out. He folded his fingers onto his lap, staring at the dark blades of grass around them. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?!” Bucky shot up, snarling.

“If you can’t figure out _why_ , then you’re not old enough to make that decision.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, Bucky! You don’t even realize this is _my_ life too! _My_ decision too! You didn’t even ask me if I’m okay with it! You just assumed!”

“What? That—it’s my ass—”

“It’s my decision too, Bucky!” Steve stood up and marched into the house. His cock quickly lost its erection when he gathered up Bucky’s things. He shoved everything into Bucky’s bookbag and came back outside. Bucky was still on the ground, his pants discarded. He was crying.

Steve dropped the backpack, closing his eyes. He’d snapped. He’d snapped because how could it not be obvious to Bucky that sex wasn’t just the decision of one person, but two. Steve had a right to decide whether they used a condom or not just as much as Bucky. And Steve shouldn’t have faulted him for the mistake, because as a kid, it was easy to forget that. Which was exactly why Steve shouldn’t have been fucking a _minor_.

“You’re breaking up with me? Over a condom?” Bucky sniffed, wiping tears from his eyes.

“I’m not breaking up with you.” Steve’s voice was dull. “It’s just not a good night, Buck. We’re both too frustrated.”

“I miss the old you. The one who’d fuck me on a hospital bed and not even worry about the door.”

“Yeah well, he had to grow up.” Steve crossed his arms. “Call your parents to come get you. I won’t infect their son without them even knowing my name.”

“You act like you have AIDS.”

“You still don’t _get_ it. You’re not an adult, Bucky. I’m not even supposed to be touching you like this. Your parents have to understand the medical implications of this too, not just you and me.”

“Are you serious? You’re gonna have a consult with them about you fucking my ass?”

“You’re not like everyone else, Buck. They have to know what to look out for too. _Especially_ if we’re having sex without condoms.”

“Jesus.” Bucky crossed his arms. He curled in on himself, brow heavy. “You’re a fuckin’ whirlwind you know that?”

“I know you’re upset. I didn’t want it to be this way. I’d love to just—well I love having sex with you. But it’s just not fair like this. You’re tryin’ to hold on when you don’t need to. Not using a condom isn’t some magical moment where we decide to get married, Buck. We’ve already talked about that.”

“But you will marry me?” Bucky’s voice rose an octave.

“You may not want me anymore, Buck. You’re already missing the _old_ me.”

Bucky bit his lip. He crawled over to his pants and slipped them back on. “Ah shit.” He stood up, wiping his hands over his crotch. “I got come on my jeans.”

“I’ll get you a pair of my sweats. C’mon.”

Up in Steve’s room, Bucky changed silently. He sat on the bed, clean and ready to be picked up. He still looked pissed. Steve didn’t blame him. Steve would be the first to admit he’d been an emotional roller-coaster as of late. The severity of Bucky’s disease weighed on Steve, more now than ever. He _needed_ Bucky to live to see human testing and he _needed_ Bucky to be a successful patient zero. It didn’t even have anything to do with his research. It had everything to do with Steve being crazy for Bucky. He couldn’t toss that away because of the minute incontinence of a condom. He couldn’t fuck a boy whose parents knew he existed and yet had no idea _who_ he was. They had to be so scared, trusting Bucky with this. Steve couldn’t even begin to understand what it was like raising Bucky and trying to keep him safe from harm. Steve wouldn’t piss that away.

“My research got approved, remember?”

Bucky nodded with a twitch of a smile.

“Another reason why I can’t take a risk without a condom is because—I can’t let you die before clinical trials.”

Bucky’s eyes rounded. Steve moved forward, dropping to his knees. He picked up Bucky’s hands, looking up at his lover.

“I want you to be part of them, if you think that’d be okay. I’ll have to talk to your parents and there’s a lot we’ll discuss but, I told you—nothin’s gonna take you away from me. I’m sorry I overreacted. I did. I think a lot of this is me punishing myself.”

Bucky huffed, flicking his brow up.

“Hey! Watch it.”

Bucky smirked.

“But if we’re gonna get through this, through all of it? I need you to trust me and we have to make decisions together. So if you want to be part of the clinicals, and your parents also are onboard, then I’d love to ask if you’d volunteer? And if you’re too scared, that’s okay, Buck. Whatever you wanna do.”

Bucky slowly nodded, his brow creased. He stared at Steve’s chest, his head still bobbing. “Can I think about it?”

“Absolutely. We can talk to your parents about it too. They’ll have to approve it too.”

“Is that before or after you tell them you’re fucking their son?”

Steve laughed. “When’s the better option?”

“Honesty, probably before. But you’re not gonna do that are you?”

Steve shook his head. Bucky knew Steve, learned fast, just like their relationship. But when Bucky wasn’t guaranteed a tomorrow, fast was their only option. He’d figured Steve all out, just as Steve thought he’d figured Bucky out. And that in itself was surprising. The both of them were still surprising each other. Bucky _knew_ Steve’s honor was crushing him. And Steve knew Bucky needed time to think about everything that had happened. The only way they could progress now was involving Bucky’s parents.

They had to tell them. And now.

* * *

Bucky was rubbing his hands raw. He sat on the front porch. They’d decided it was best to do all of this in the confines of the home. His dad had made a few jokes about breaking out the gun. Bucky didn’t find it funny though. He was pretty sure his dad _would_ actually shoot Steve. It’d feel like a betrayal. The Barnes’ had trusted Steve to protect their son medically. Instead of being the beacon of physician honor, Steve went and fell in love with Bucky. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Bucky knew that now. He’d been desperate, afraid and infatuated. He’d wanted Steve and looking back at how he’d gotten his first kiss—he didn’t regret it. Everything that had happened was perfect to Bucky and if it was all he’d get, then it was enough. He could go to his grave tomorrow knowing he’d loved someone and felt love in return. That’s all that mattered to him.

Steve turned the corner, walking along the street. He carried flowers, just like Wade had in the hospital. Bucky winced, remembering his outburst. He’d been a terrible friend. Peter was still sick and Wade was his hope. Bucky should never have said those things to him. He’d been angry and desperate, seeking validation for everything when the only people who needed to validate this relationship were Steve and Bucky. Sure, Bucky’s parents needed to as well, but at that moment, Bucky was trying to find defenses for when his family found out the truth.

Bucky stood up, wiping the sweat from his palms. He met Steve on the sidewalk. They didn’t kiss or hug. Steve looked up at the house and took in a deep breath. Bucky watched the way his broad chest rose and slowly fell.

“Ready?” Bucky asked.

“I wanted to move to Canada today.”

“Wow—so not ready.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but this is what’s right. We—I’ve got to own up to my actions.”

“They’re my actions too, Steve.” Bucky took Steve’s hand.

“I’m supposed to be the adult. I’m supposed to know better.”

“I know.” Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand and led him to the house.

“Wait—Buck!”

Bucky turned, startled. Steve’s face was pale, eyes tight and jaw clenched. He grabbed Bucky’s face, nodding. He looked like a man about to go to war. Not a man about to meet his boyfriend’s parents. Bucky’s eyes watered. Steve was risking jail for this moment.

“No matter what happens—don’t regret me.”

Bucky smiled, nodding. “How could I?”

Bucky turned the knob and a gush of air conditioning greeted him. They stepped into the house. Bucky’s mom liked keeping the house spotless and smelling clean. There was potpourri in almost every room. Lavender and vanilla wafted through Bucky’s senses. It both soothed and terrified him. A familiar scent but an unfamiliar experience.

His mother was the first to step into the foyer. Her mouth dropped open, jaw slack. She didn’t move to take the flowers from Steve, but she didn’t scream either. Bucky looked away when his father came into the room. He stopped short, next to Winifred. Bucky bit his lip, tears ready to fall if this went south.

“Hi.” Steve’s voice.

“Hi—Dr. Rogers.” Bucky’s mother’s voice was stilted, uncertain. She spoke like it was strange to see Steve. Almost like she wasn’t connecting the dots to what he was to Bucky.

“It’s—it’s just Steve, please.”

“He said—you were older—but—” George never finished his sentence. His gaze went to his wife and to Bucky then to his wife again. He grabbed Winifred’s shoulders, staring at Steve.

“I don’t know what to say,” Steve said, “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to apologize or defend myself.”

Bucky moved to stand in front of Steve. It wasn’t Steve’s turn to defend anymore. Steve had been protecting Bucky from illness, from death and sadness. He’d made Bucky’s life worth living. Before Steve, Bucky’s life was his bedroom, hospital rooms and video games. He lived through a digital realm and porn. With Steve, he got to _live_. He got to taste another person’s lips, feel the warmth of their skin and listen to them laugh. Steve took Bucky on a date, built him a garden. He’d pretty much proposed. Did their age really mean none of this was allowed? Steve said he was supposed to be the adult. Was it up to him to abandon Bucky? Bucky _needed_ him. Steve—Steve gave him hope. Bucky had never hoped for a future before. He thought less of death and more of Steve every day. He smiled easier, laughed louder. And he was so close to being eighteen.

“Don’t yell at him, if, if that’s what you wanna do.” Bucky looked at his sneakers. He didn’t have a big fancy speech prepared. He hadn’t expected he’d need one. Part of him truly believed his parents would be okay with this. They weren’t screaming and that was a good sign, but they needed more persuasion. That had to come from Bucky and not Steve. “It started in the hospital. ‘Bout four months ago. I told him I’d take the procedure if he kissed me and he just wanted me to be okay. I didn’t—he didn’t pressure me or anything. It was me.”

“Bucky—”

“Shut up, Steve!” Bucky licked his lips. “Mom, Dad. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m happy. I wanna get out of bed in the morning. I wanna make sure I don’t get sick. I don’t—I’m not so angry. He’s given me something to live for. I love you to, I do, but, he’s—please don’t yell at him.”

“Let’s—let’s put those flowers in water, shall we?” Winifred came forward. She plucked the flowers from Steve’s hands and turned for the kitchen.

Bucky looked to his father. His face was tired, jowls sullen and brow heavy. He turned, also following Winifred.

“They’re not yelling, that’s good.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand.

“Yeah—maybe.” Steve’s face was turning green.

Bucky led him into the dining room and showed him where to sit. Steve sat heavily. He curled up into himself, a broad man desperate to make himself small. Bucky scooted closer to him, grabbing one of his hands beneath the table.

Bucky’s parents brought out plates piled with food. Steak, potatoes, roasted asparagus and onion. Bucky didn’t have much of an appetite right now, but he’d put on a show for Steve’s sake. He was pretty sure Steve would do the same. George also went back into the kitchen to get a basket of rolls. Bucky would at least eat those. He loved his mother’s rolls.

“So four months, huh?” George asked.

“Yeah,” Steve answered.

Bucky went about breaking into a roll and buttering it up. He set it on his plate and resigned himself to one of the most awkward dinner conversations in his life. His heart was pounding, sweat beading at the back of his neck. If this didn’t give him an ulcer, he’d consider himself lucky.

“Four months isn’t that much time, when you look at it.” George started cutting up his meat. He scratched the plate beneath, and both Steve and Bucky cringed at the sound. “Bucky talks like he’s found his soulmate.”

“Well I’m in love with him too, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Steve grabbed a roll, but he didn’t pile his with butter like Bucky had.

“After four months?” Winifred asked.

“I don’t think love can be quantified in a matter of time. It’s just a feeling and sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn’t. It just did. And that’s where we’re at now.”

“He made me a beautiful garden—at his house.” Bucky sat up, cracking his sternum. “There’s a wishing pond with some coy fish. We’re gonna name em.”

Steve smiled. Even in front of the Barnes’, his eyes still sparkled like crystal clear waters in the sunlight. They only did that for Bucky and it warmed him from the inside out.

“Sharon thinks the garden can be therapeutic for him. Help him clear his mind.” Steve rested on his elbows. His food was entirely abandoned. “Bucky’s got a lot of anxiety. When we’re outside, I think it helps him. Do you, Buck?”

“Uh-huh. Being near you helps me though too.”

Winifred stabbed her steak a little too roughly. Her hand accidently knocked into her wine. She stood up, white wine spilling down her pants to the floor. “Crap.”

“I’ll get it!” Steve stood up. “Where’re the towels?”

“It’s fine, Dr. Rogers—ah—Steve. I can clean it up.” She left quickly, waddling to the kitchen.

“You’ve had sex with my son.” The words were spoken so easily, so blunt that Bucky wasn’t even sure they’d been spoken at all. He stared at his father, watching for any hint that he’d not said a word. George’s gaze barreled into Steve. He glowered, bushy brows and lined face taut.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s happened.” Steve’s face flushed red. He looked to his lap, playing with his fingernails. “We’re always careful.”

“How old are you Dr. Rogers?”

“It’s Steve.”

“It’s Dr. Rogers, how old are you?” George pointed his fork at Steve’s face.

“Thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one.” George nodded. He took a sip of his wine and then scratched his nose. “How old’s my son.”

Bucky saw the way Steve balled up his fists.

“Seventeen.”

“Give me your reason why you think being with my seventeen-year-old HIGM son isn’t a mistake.”

Winifred came back into the room. She hovered by the table, her gaze flicking from George to Steve and back again.

“I think, sir, we’re coming at this from two different views. I know this is wrong. But it’s not a mistake.”

George raised a brow. “Aren’t they one in the same?”

“No. This isn’t a mistake because out of every human on this planet, I’m the best thing for Bucky. I’m his _doctor_. I can tell when he’s getting sick. I’ll know when he’s got a fever and how to treat it before any boyfriend his age would. I can get him checked into the hospital and have you on the phone while we’re on the way there. Objectively, it’s the greatest thing, having a doctor with someone with a chronic illness. Subjectively, it’s wrong because I _am_ his doctor and I’m older. The legal age in New York is sixteen. But that doesn’t make this right. I’m not going to sit here and make excuses for why this is _right_ when it’s not. But it’s still not a mistake.”

Bucky tried to hide the smile while his parents mirrored each other’s looks of shock. They’d been rendered speechless. Bucky would disagree about this being _wrong_ , but that wasn’t up for debate right now. Steve was explaining why he was the best thing for Bucky, given the circumstances. He was explaining the unique and precarious situation they’d all found themselves in. The truth was, Bucky had a chronic illness. There’d be good days and bad. Steve, as a physician, would be the best to handle anything that came their way. He could monitor Bucky both as a boyfriend and as someone with expert knowledge in medicine. That, and he was devoting his entire research project to Bucky’s strand. If that didn’t scream he loved Bucky, then what did?

Winifred was the first to give in. Her shoulders relaxed and she slipped back into her seat. She reached out for Steve’s wrist, and looked him straight in the eye.

“I trust you,” she said, “and if you think this isn’t a mistake, if Bucky thinks this is what makes him happy then—”

“What? No! Absolutely not!” George stood up like he’d been burned. His brow creased and the lines along his face turned red. “He is a _teenager_!”

“And Steve’s a doctor! Bucky’s never going to get as lucky! I don’t,” Bucky’s mom took a deep breath, “I don’t mean to talk like this but we have to consider the future. Bucky is only going to get worse. What if he can’t get health insurance? What if we can’t afford his bills? Steve’s—Steve’s the best option.”

George twisted his lips into a snarl. He turned from his wife to Bucky, pointing at him with a stern finger. He breathed harshly, his chest rising and falling, and then he dropped his shoulders. He rushed out an exhale and his face returned to its olive tone. Bucky and Steve watched in anticipation as George took Winifred’s hand and nodded.

“If—what I mean is—I’m not going to stop you. But I swear to the Almighty God above, if you hurt him, Dr. Rogers—”

Steve smiled, squeezing Bucky’s hand. George left the threat to hang in the air. The room’s tension simmered into nothing and then Bucky began eating. His mother followed suit, then Steve. Finally the room was full of clattering plates and crunching. Bucky snaked an ankle around Steve’s, sharing private smiles with him as they ate.

They didn’t exactly win the war, but they sure as hell won the battle.

* * *

“Steve!” Bucky pushed his head into Steve’s ribs, mewling his name like a child. Steve rolled his eyes, petting Bucky’s soft hair lovingly. “Pay attention to me!”

“I’m busy makin’ the plan for our research.” Steve readjusted so his laptop was firmly on his lap. They lay naked together, aside from Steve’s Mac. After their dinner with Bucky’s parents, they’d gone back to Steve’s, made love all night and then Steve went to work. He had a lot to do in what felt like a short time before the Board needed to start reviewing his timelines. Bucky lay with his head on Steve’s thigh, his eyes closed. Steve wanted to shove his computer away and make Bucky writhe under him, but now wasn’t the time anymore. One of them had to be the responsible one, and it sure as hell wasn’t the impatient one.

“You’re boring.” Bucky started tickling the inside of Steve’s leg, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Bucky,” Steve warned with a glare, “don’t please.”

“Ugh!” Bucky stood up, pacing. Steve couldn’t help but watch the way his ass jiggled. Bucky had a nice butt, rounded with thick thighs that Steve wanted to cut off his air supply.

“Oh fuck it,” Steve put his laptop on the nightstand, “c’mere sexy.”

Bucky squealed, surging into Steve’s arms. They wasted no time in kissing, messy and loud, sloppy kisses that shined their lips. Steve pulled Bucky atop him, massaging his boy’s ass as they kissed. Bucky hummed, his fingers playing with the tips of Steve’s hair at the back of his neck.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

“I love you too.”

“Sit on my face.”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

“I’m serious!” Steve’s ears heated up. He was sure they were bright pink. “Your thighs got me all—just sit on my face and squeeze.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he pushed Steve back on the bed. He slunk up Steve’s body, caressing his fingers over the gentle curves of Steve’s abs and the dip between his pectoral muscles. He spread his legs, showing off his cute little hole. Steve leaned forward to try to lick at it but Bucky made a clicking sound with his tongue.

“You want me to take control, I’m gonna take control.”

“Oh fuck,” Steve shivered all over, “I’m gonna love this.”

“Good.” Bucky squeezed Steve’s head with his thighs, touching his own cock, stroking slow. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed, his head hurting from blood abandoning it and engorging his cock—and also the literal feeling of being crushed by thighs. Bucky was skinny, long limbs and lines, but his _thighs_. Steve would gladly suffocate for this.

Bucky dropped down, smothering Steve’s face with his ass. Steve wasted no time in grabbing Bucky by the hips and licking at his hole with all the enthusiasm that he could muster. He slipped his tongue inside, hooking it and curving it in and out, listening to the sounds his baby boy made.

Bucky was _loud_ today. Shivering thighs, gasps and moans. He squeezed Steve and relaxed, lifted up a little for Steve to breathe better and covered his face entirely again. Fuck, if Steve died, he wouldn’t even be angry about it.

“I’m gonna—”

Steve stopped, pushing Bucky’s thighs and prayed he’d get the hint. Bucky pulled back, still pumping his hand furiously over his red cock.

“Come on my face baby,” Steve said.

Bucky smiled, crawling on his knees closer. His come splashed Steve, warm and wet. It slipped down Steve’s cheeks and flecked over his forehead. He licked out, tasting Bucky’s salty seed and looked up at Bucky with hungry eyes. There’d be no work done today. They’d conquered so much together.

Steve could tell Bucky’s parents weren’t exactly _happy_ with this, the age did bother them, but the doctor aspect didn’t seem to. Winifred really liked that Steve was the best person for Bucky and George saw its practicality. It wasn’t perfect. Holidays would be awkward, but they’d get by.

Steve pushed Bucky onto the bed, growling as his boyfriend laughed. He rubbed his face—come-slicked—on Bucky’s tummy. Bucky squealed in delight, making a scene as if he were trying to push Steve away, but Steve knew better. Neither of them wanted to stop. Steve kissed Bucky’s chest, licking the come he’d smeared onto him off until Bucky was shimmering with trails of saliva. Bucky watched Steve, his body languid, his cock soft. Steve trailed down Bucky’s body, kissing him reverently, worshiping each little spot of skin he kissed. He looked up occasionally, a small smile on his face to match Bucky’s hazy one.

He took Bucky’s cock into his mouth, just holding it. He watched Bucky, their gazes locked on each other. Steve let go of Bucky’s cock, kissing its tip before coming back up and scooping Bucky into his arms. Bucky cuddled in, nuzzling into Steve’s neck.

“Marry me,” Steve said.

“What?”

“Marry me. We’ve done everything too fast and too dumb. So let’s keep being dumb. Marry me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, his red plump lips dropping open. He stared at Steve, his gaze searching for something in Steve’s confident face. Steve watched with a smug grin, his eyes hooded. Everything they ever did was _wrong_ to someone. So, why should he suddenly do anything right? Steve had always been impulsive. Bucky had always been impatient. It just made sense.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, moving to straddle the larger man. He hooked his ankles behind Steve and swallowed loudly. Steve kept silent, watching. Tears spilled over Bucky’s cheeks, his breath feathered against Steve’s skin, hot and uneven. Bucky kissed Steve, unsure and more timid than Steve wanted. Steve’s heart was beginning to beat fast, hard against his sternum.

Bucky broke the kiss with a gasp. He rested his forehead against Steve’s, eyes closed. Steve kept watching, worry now furrowing his brow.

“Yes.”

“What?” It was Steve’s turn to ask the dumb questions.

“I’ll marry you.” Bucky smiled, more tears falling from his steel eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” He wrapped his arms around Steve, and together they fell sideways on the bed. They lay there in a fit of giggles and shared kisses. Bucky kissed over Steve’s eyes, his nose and along his jaw.

Steve kissed Bucky’s lips each time they got close to them, holding his lover—his fiancé—close. No. No there’d be no work done today. Today would be celebration, love-making and more kisses than Bucky was probably prepared for.

But he took each one of them like the rarest gift Steve could offer, and that in itself made Steve’s heart explode from the sheer overwhelming love he felt for Bucky.

* * *

 _“Congrats man! You’re and idiot!_ _J_ – Sam

Steve laughed, tucking his phone away. He picked his a stethoscope, wrapping it around his neck. It’d been his idea. But now he felt dumb and more than a little hopelessly romantic about the whole thing. He wasn’t even scheduled today. Which—again—the entire damn point.

He walked the hallways of the hospital, the pads of his fingers trailing along the walls. He’d stop for some hand sanitizer at the nurse’s station before heading in. The patient was easy to make sick. He didn’t want to risk that.

“Hey handsome,” Sharon said. She wore pink scrubs and there were brightly colored stickers all around her RN badge now. Steve cocked a brow at it. “Oh uh—a patient. She thought it’d look prettier all dazzled up.”

“It’s great, don’t worry. We should indulge our patients a little if we can.”

“Oh really? That’s what you call it these days?” She winked, smirking.

“Fuck off.”

Sharon beamed, walking with Steve over to a closed door. “Congrats, Steve. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, Sharon. That means a lot.”

“You know—we weren’t really friends before Bucky.” Sharon wrinkled her nose, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m glad he brought us closer. You’re an amazing man, Steve.”

“I don’t know about that.” Steve’s ears turned pink.

“You are. Now go be the best doctor in the whole damn world.”

Steve nodded to her, swallowing around the lump that formed in his throat. He absolutely refused to cry. But when he opened the door, tears filled his eyes faster than he could catch them. Streamers brightened the walls. Balloons hung in every corner. Bucky, surrounded by doctors, nurses, friends and family, Peter, Wade—everyone that had come to know Bucky on his journey through HIGM. They were all here, and now they were all looking at Steve with matching, smiling faces. Even Dr. Brock Rumlow.

“He’s got a little infection,” Dr. Rumlow said, “nothing serious. Antibiotic regimen and he’ll be out of here in a few days.”

Steve nodded, relieved. He’d scratched Bucky, either in the night as they slept or during the countless times they’d made love. A week after telling Bucky’s parents about their relationship, and now here they were—right back where they started. But Bucky didn’t have a sallow face or dark bags under his eyes. He wasn’t scowling or playing video games because he was here too often. He was smiling, tears shining in his eyes, biting his lip.

Steve walked through the crowd in the room. Truth be told, it wasn’t _that_ many people. But Steve was a private man and this felt like the world was watching. Sam clapped him on the back as he walked by. Dr. Banner nodded, a shy smile on his features.

Steve sat down on the bed, cupping Bucky’s face.

“This is the best engagement party I’ve ever been to.” He leaned forward, kissing Bucky’s lips.

“Should you really do that?” George asked. “I mean—I don’t care—but he’s got an infection?”

“He’s on antibiotics,” Sharon said, “they’re fine.”

Steve leaned back, rolling his eyes at himself. He’d never been one for PDA, and here he was, unable to keep his hands off Bucky.

The party moved on, people talking and lots of laughter. Peter was in a wheelchair—a marvel in itself. Wade behind him, pushing him along. He was beginning to show signs of remission. _A God damn miracle_ , Steve thought. From across the room, he watched Bucky pad around in his sweats and a baggy band shirt. He spoke to his parents, even hugged them. They’d come a long way from the nervous couple with a sick kid. Sam and Sharon seemed cozy, using the other bed to converse with each other privately. Steve looked at his white lab coat, shrugging it off. For once in his life, a hospital room was too hot. Things were going to change now. By the ethics board, Steve wasn’t allowed to be Bucky’s doctor anymore. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on him. But luckily, clinical trials didn’t have the same rules. A volunteer was a volunteer. Often many doctors ran clinical on their family. At the hospital, Dr. Banner would continue being Bucky’s doctor, but during trials, at home? Nothing stopped Steve from making sure Bucky had the happiest, best fucking life he could have.

They met in this very room, they’d made love for the first time in this very room. And now they celebrated their engagement with the people who influenced both their lives—in this very room. Steve wouldn’t be half surprised if Bucky suggested they get married in the damn room (Steve would actually have to be opposed).

Steve used to think it was a doctor’s job not only to cure, but to give hope. Now? He still believed that—but it wasn’t a simple one-way street anymore. Bucky gave him as much hope as Steve gave Bucky. And Steve couldn’t wait to see how their lives would unfold. Both the good and the inevitable bad.

He had hope and he had Bucky—and that’s all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to know my headcanon for Bucky's future, ask me on tumblr! Or just search the "GEH" tag and you'll probably find it :D 
> 
> add me on [tumblr!](http://buckmebxrnes.tumblr.com/)


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